Faith
by SpicySugar
Summary: Hermione cannot find work and is hired as a governess at Malfoy Manor for Draco's son Scorpius. Sexual tension builds and broods when Draco brings home a potential new wife from France who is rich, beautiful, and of a high class-how can Hermione compete?
1. Grain Of Salt

**Brief, and mostly likely the only, Author's Note:** This is my first attempt at something other than a smutty one-shot in… well, years. Please note the rating. There will still be some smut, but the smut to plot ratio is a lot lower than normal… Something like 1:25 instead of my typical 2:1. This is much more about the story. The sex is an added bonus. I promise I will do my best to stay dedicated, I'm very excited about this plot idea. Speaking of the plot, here comes the usual disclaimer: I, of course, do not own Harry Potter or any characters therein. However, I also cannot take full credit for this plotline, as it is loosely borrowed from one of my personal favorite musicals. Also, the chapter titles are all Faith Hill song titles. I do not know as yet exactly how many chapters it will come out to, but I promise I will be very definite and firm about the end. You'll know when it's over.

And now, without further adieu…

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**Chapter One**

_Somebody Stand By Me._

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* * *

_

"You're crazy."

"No, I'm desperate."

"Okay, you're desperately crazy."

"Perhaps."

Hermione was packing the last of her things in a hefty trunk as she bickered with her mother.

"I told you that you can stay here as long as you like…"

"I know I can, Mother, but it's time I started making my own way… I'm twenty five years old, I can't keep living at home having a pity party for myself just because there aren't any good jobs for someone who didn't finish school." Hermione hadn't realized how devastating losing her last year of school would be to her future career. She might have been the right hand of the Chosen One, but that didn't matter on paper. Back then it hadn't seemed important – and she supposed, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't. Vanquishing Voldemort for good was certainly something far more grandiose and significant than a paltry potential desk job.

Now, however, with Voldemort having been gone for eight years and Hermione still living with her mother because the Ministry of Magic didn't want to hire someone who hadn't completed a wizarding education, she was being forced to second guess her past, and she didn't like it.

Frustrated, she forced her thoughts to the neatly packed trunk in front of her.

"I think that's everything…"

"Hermione, please…"

"Mother, I'm sorry, but I've made my choice." Hermione's voice softened a little when she saw tears welling in her mother's brown eyes. Her hair had been pulled back into a bun, but curly little pieces were falling out here and there from her mother's exhaustive last-ditch attempts to get Hermione to stay.

She was still beautiful, Hermione thought. Even at fifty.

She pulled her mother into a tight hug. She felt a few tears splash onto her shoulder.

"Mum, please don't cry… I'll be fine. I really will. Being a governess will be good for me. You know how I love to teach."

"I know, but Hermione… it's for… for that Malfoy boy's son…"

"Mother, Draco Malfoy is no longer a boy. He's a grown man with a child, and he needs help schooling him. He's five years old, he still has six years before he goes to Hogwarts." She said it as gently as she could but she knew they were words her mother didn't want to hear.

"Can't he find someone… _anyone_… else? He was so awful to you in school, I can't imagine you living in his house! What if he tries to kill you?"

"Then he'd be arrested and most likely have his soul sucked out of him by a dementor. It's not hard to prove a wizard's murder. All you need is the wand that did it. If Draco Malfoy wanted me dead, there are far stealthier ways to go about it than going to the trouble of hiring me as his governess."

"But why _you_?" her mother demanded, pulling away and meeting Hermione's eyes.

"If I know Malfoy, he will want only the best for his child. He knows I will not lead his son astray, and as much as Malfoy may not like my bloodline, he cannot deny that I was the top of the class every year."

Her mother sighed and her gaze dropped.

"Mum, we've been round and round this conversation a hundred times. You know I'm holding fast. Please, just support me? I need to know I'm not alone."

"Your father's death is still painful for me. I just can't imagine being alone in this house all day… every day."

Hermione was silent. Her father had died of a heart attack – so the doctors assumed – shortly after Hermione restored his memory when she returned safely after Voldemort had been killed. He had been fifty at the time compared to her mother's forty two. Hermione's best guess was that his body reacted to the strong magic of returning memories badly. She didn't know if it was because he was older and a bit more frail than her mother, or simply because his body wasn't used to so much magic. Hermione had always thought the magic in her bloodline came from her mother. Her father's death was another confirmation for that suspicion.

"You're a strong woman, mother. I will owl you as often as I possibly can. But please, get yourself out of the house sometimes. Spend time with your friends, go shopping, graffiti a train station, _something_…"

She was pleased to see her mother smile, and even more pleased when she pulled Hermione into a tight bear hug.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you too, Mum."

"Please be careful."

"Always."

"As long as you are happy, I will support you."

"Thank you…" Hermione murmured, and then pulled away. She shut her truck and locked it, then turned it up on its end and held the handle.

"I'm going now, all right? I'm expected at mid-day today and it's already a quarter to twelve."

"Goodbye, love. Take care."

"Of course, mother."

And with a turn on the heel and a quick pop, she and her trunk were gone.

* * *

She staggered a little with the weight of her trunk by her side as she appeared just outside the front gates of Malfoy Manor. They were made of solid black iron and looked ominous even in the bright noon sunlight. Sensing her presence and, she assumed, having been charmed to know who she was, they opened to allow her entrance. She hadn't gotten more than two steps in when two wizards – at least, she thought they were wizards – appeared at her sides. They were dressed to the nines in topcoats with tails, but their skin seemed to gleam, almost glow, like their veins had molten gold flowing through them instead of blood.

"Miss Hermione Granger?" One asked. His voice was deep, but watery and smooth.

"Yes sir," she replied, nodding her head in a slight bow.

"We have been waiting for you." The second said. His voice was exactly the same as the first.

Hermione only bleakly nodded.

"Shall we take your trunk for you?" the first asked.

"No… I mean, I—"

"Very well, then," replied the second, and they each took an end of her trunk and carried it before her on the path as if it were as light as feathers.

Well, she thought. At least they weren't house elves.

She followed them at a jog up the walk, for they travelled very quickly, and soon joined them on the front steps, where the one closer to the door took one hand off the trunk and knocked at the door three times. It opened immediately for him and they trotted inside. Hermione walked in after them as gracefully as she could, but she felt her own gait to be heavy and clumsy in comparison to their dancing step.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light inside and she moved her gaze straight ahead, she found herself face to face with none other than the man of the house, Draco Malfoy. He stood a few meters from her, his hand on the shoulder of a boy who was the spitting image of his father, but the top of his head barely came to Draco's waist. The two gleaming wizards stood, beaming, to the side, still holding her trunk.

"Hermione," he said to her. His voice was smooth and even. Hers, she was sure, would be trembling, for she had just then realized how incredibly nervous she was. She was staggered enough at his use of her first name. Through all their correspondence previous in the hiring process, he had referred to her as Ms. Granger, and she to him as—

"Mr. Malfoy," she responded, inclining her head in the same bow she'd given the men currently holding her luggage.

"Draco, please," he corrected her. She thought maybe he might have smiled, but that thought was so unlike Malfoy that she dismissed the notion immediately.

There was a painful silence and Malfoy glanced over at the two men. It was then that Hermione realized that Draco was dressed in a robe which stood open to reveal a freshly starched shirt complete with a green tie and what she was sure must be twenty galleon black pants. Forty galleon shiny black shoes completed the ensemble. His son was also in a starched shirt and black pants, but he lacked a tie and robe. The two golden wizards were in white-tie tuxedos. And she… Hermione was clad in a two galleon off-the-clearance-rack brown polyester skirt suit, with hose too dark for her skin tone and low-heeled pumps with scuffs on the toes. Her hair, at least, was pulled back into a stern, no-nonsense bun…

"Gentlemen, please deliver the lady's luggage to her quarters, and then you are dismissed."

"Yes, sir," they said in unison, and they – and Hermione's trunk – disappeared silently in a cloud of golden mist, which soon fell to the floor and evaporated.

Hermione stared.

Draco noticed.

"Orhommes."

"I'm sorry?" Hermione said, her eyes snapping back to him.

"They're called Orhommes. Golden men. A very strange hybrid – or mistake – from a French wizard's laboratory… but they make quite useful servants. They don't require payment, they don't eat or drink, and they never need new clothes."

"How… interesting…" she choked out, trying not to imagine the kind of horrors those men must have gone through to go from ordinary humans to strange apparating golden creatures.

"I call them Dmitry and Davius," Malfoy continued.

"Which is which?" she couldn't help but to ask.

"I'm not entirely sure, but they know the difference between each other, so I'm not bothered."

"Father…" the little boy said, tugging at his father's robe.

"Ah, yes, how rude of me. Hermione, this is Scorpius. Scorpius, this is Hermione. She is to be your governess until you are old enough for institutional education."

"How do you do, Scorpius?" Hermione asked, kneeling down on one knee and meeting his eyes – silver, just like his father's. He looked so much like Draco that Hermione wondered if he had a mother at all, or if Draco had merely cloned himself… Hermione made a mental note to ask about the boy's mother.

"I'm doing good," Scorpius replied, looking down at the floor. His father had instructed him to be polite and he clearly was not enjoying the task.

"Don't you mean, 'I'm doing well'?" she corrected him, smiling.

"Whatever…" he said, shuffling his feet. "Father, can I go now?" he pleaded, looking up at him. Draco sighed.

"Go on to your room. I'll be by shortly."

Scorpius wasted no time but dashed away and out of sight immediately.

"He's… charming…" Hermione said, struggling to find a positive comment.

"He's difficult is what he is."

"I'm sure I can work with him," she said, trying to convince both of them.

"I'm sure. You wouldn't be here otherwise," he countered. She supposed that was a compliment.

"Shall I show you to your room?" he asked.

"Certainly," she answered. He led her up a grand staircase and she stared at the surroundings… lots of dark wood paneling, stone floors, plenty of artwork… the whole place was extravagant, but quite distinctly Slytherin. They walked all the way down the west hallway of the second floor until they reached the door at the end.

"You'll find everything you need inside, I'm sure. Every day breakfast is at eight, lunch at twelve, and dinner at five. You are welcome to join us at our table unless I specify otherwise. I want you having as much time with Scorpius as possible. He does not take very kindly to strangers and it will take a while for him to warm up to you. I'd like you to begin tutoring him tomorrow, every day between breakfast and lunch. After lunch he is allowed to roam around and do as he pleases, within reason, until dinner. After dinner he is to practice reading for a while. He should be in bed no later than eight. Should you require anything, just call for Dmitry or Davius."

Hermione tried to file all that away in a temporary space in her brain so she could write it down when he let her into her room.

"If he misbehaves?" she asked.

"Discipline accordingly."

He didn't seem keen to expand on what "accordingly" entailed, so Hermione decided she would just make sure to keep her disciplinary decisions prudent.

"Lunch is in ten minutes. I'll see you in the dining room then."

"Thank you…" she replied, but he was already walking back down the hallway, leaving her alone at the door. Not wanting to waste time, she turned the handle and slowly pushed the heavy door open.

Her mouth went agape as she took in her new living quarters.

At the right of the room was a magnificent, king-sized four-poster bed hung with silver curtains and dressed with an emerald quilt, emblazoned with the Malfoy family crest. To the left of the bed was a wardrobe and to the right was a bedside table. On the left of the room was a fireplace with two Victorian era couches by it, and on either side of the fireplace were bookshelves. On the back wall was a large writing desk, and to its right were two gorgeous French doors that led to a small balcony overlooking the west side of the grounds. Her trunk stood, open and empty, at the foot of the bed, and she realized as she explored the room that Dmitry and Davius had already unpacked her things. She noticed a door by the bedside table and opened it to reveal a stunning bathroom – covered in gray slate and white marble, with a beautiful vanity, a shower big enough for three people, and at the center of the room a gorgeous, antique clawfoot tub.

If this was her room, she couldn't imagine what the master suite looked like…

Hermione shook the curious thought away and made her way downstairs in search of the dining room for lunch.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Reviews are not required but always appreciated. This will be my one and only petition for reviews. I'd like to know if I should keep going with this idea or scrap it. I know one chapter is hard to judge on, so wait for more if you like.


	2. I Can't Take You Anywhere

**Author's Note:** I'm sorry, I know I said there wouldn't be another one of these, but I wanted to send a quick thank you to those who corrected my positively idiotic mistake of calling her a baroness and not a governess. I SWEAR I really do know the difference. I wrote that first chapter a little too late at night apparently... Sorry guys! It's fixed in this chapter and as soon as I upload it I'm going through and fixing chapter one.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

_The Hard Way_

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* * *

_

The dining room wasn't fair from the main foyer – only a turn to the left and a short way down the hall. The décor, like the rest of the house, was exquisite. A long mahogany table set for fourteen was of course the centerpiece of the room, with a crystal chandelier hanging above it at either end. A fireplace decorated the wall facing the door, and various sculptures loomed in the corners.

Draco and Scorpius were already seated at the table but did not yet have food in front of them.

"I trust you found your room acceptable?" Draco asked.

"Oh, yes, absolutely!" Hermione gushed. "It's positively wonderful!"

"Good," he said. "Please, sit down," he said, motioning to the chair to his left. He was seated at the head of the table, with Scorpius sitting on his right hand side.

He watched her as she daintily placed herself on the chair. He knew she must feel terribly awkward and out of place, but that would fade in time. She looked better than he'd remembered her from school – but then, most women did look far better at 25 than 16. Her skin tone was richer, she wasn't as pallid, and her features had matured to make her look a few years older than she actually was. Her hair was still in the uptight bun like it was when she'd arrived… it was extremely unsettling for him, as he was used to her hair being down and all over the place. To him, her hair being up was just another mark of how out of place and nervous she was.

"Lunch for the lady and gentlemen," came Dmitry's voice – or was it Davius? – as both Orhommes appeared in the room carrying a tray each – one with covered bowls, the other with covered plates.

"First," said the one with the tray of plates, "Une salade niçoise, pas d'anchois, bein sûr." He placed a dish first in front of Hermione, then in front of Draco and Scorpius, uncovering each as he went. Draco had never understood their French jargon but everything they served was always good, so he never complained. Either way, what had been placed in front of him was clearly a salad, and he vaguely remembered having seen them serve it several times before. He recognized the strange, spiky lettuce.

"Second," said the one with the tray of bowls, "A creamy and hearty oyster stew."

Draco was thankful that the second actually spoke English, though he certainly knew an oyster stew when he saw one. Again, they placed it in front of Hermione first and then gave it to Draco and Scorpius, uncovering each.

"Bon appétit!" the two men said in unison, and then disappeared, taking their trays with them.

Hermione was examining her salad carefully.

"Something wrong?" Draco asked, before starting on his own.

"It's just a shame they left the anchovies out…" she started. She was answered by a loud "Yuck!" from Scorpius.

"I'm sorry?" Draco asked.

"Well when he brought it out, he said that of course they left off the anchovies, like it was something you asked them to do every time. Anyway, a salade niçoise traditionally is topped with anchovies, but I can understand that Scorpius wouldn't like it that way."

"So you know French, then?" Draco asked.

"Of course. I spent many summers in France with my parents."

"I think I'd like you to spend some time teaching the basics of the language to Scorpius," Draco stated. Learning a second language was best done young, he knew, and he wanted his son as cultured as possible.

Hermione made a mental note to incorporate French into Scorpius's studies a few days of the week.

Lunch passed without much event, but when they were finished Draco dismissed Scorpius from the room but asked Hermione to stay.

"You seem uncomfortable, Hermione."

"I… well, I mean, I'm in a new place, and I've only just met Scorpius, and I haven't seen or heard very much from you in eight years until recently…"

"I understand that, but you are governess of Malfoy Manor now. You will have to adjust quickly. If you have any concerns, just ask me," he said. His words weren't very comforting. Draco, she noticed, was still as harsh as always. His speech just lacked insults, now.

"Right, of course." She paused. "Draco, if you don't mind my asking…"

"Why does Scorpius not have a mother?" he finished. She guessed he got the inquiry a lot.

"Well, yes, though I'd planned on wording it a bit differently…"

Draco was silent for a moment.

"His mother was a girl I met shortly after the war ended. We began seeing each other and soon became serious. I intended to make her my wife, but when she found out she was pregnant she demanded we wait to marry until after she carried the child to term. Once she had Scorpius, however, she was stricken with an extreme case of postpartum depression."

"Oh, how awful…"

"Let me finish," he snipped.

"Of course, sorry." Hermione feared the story got no better from here.

"She became quite unlike herself. Her magical power decreased by the hour and every day she lost physical strength. The Healers believed that having the child had broken some sort of magical bond within her core – they didn't know what would happen, as such a case had never been seen before in a wizarding birth from two healthy and moderately magically powerful parents."

He paused. Hermione waited, not wanting to interrupt again.

"She lasted about six weeks after Scorpius was born. She died in her sleep at St. Mungo's. I was informed the following morning by a personal visit from a Healer. We had her body cremated. Her ashes are buried in the Malfoy cemetery on the grounds. Though we never married, she is the mother of a Malfoy child, and thus she is a part of the lineage."

Once she was certain he was finished, she asked, "Draco… what was her name?"

He paused, and didn't meet her eyes when he answered, "Isabella." He seemed visibly pained, still, at her loss and she regretted bringing the topic up at all.

"Does Scorpius…"

"No. He has no recollection at all of his mother and does not even ask about her."

Hermione couldn't get over the tragedy of it all. Ten years ago she would have said Draco Malfoy deserved nothing less than such heartbreak and perhaps even moreso. She had grown up since then, though, and seeing the suffering he surely must have gone through was painful for her to watch.

Malfoy must have sensed this because he stood up abruptly.

"I have to be travelling for the next few days. I shouldn't be gone more than three days. I'll be home by Friday at noon at the latest."

Hermione couldn't help herself. "But where are you going?"

His eyes hardened a little as he looked at her.

"Hermione, you are my governess, not my wife. Where I go and why I am there is not your business."

"Right, of course, my apologies…"

"Are not necessary." He paused. "Keep an eye on Scorpius while you are not actively engaged in teaching him. His magical power grows stronger by the day and he has a difficult time controlling it."

"Certainly," she answered.

"Dmitry and Davius can answer any questions you will have until my return. Should you need me, there are several owls kept in an owlery in the attic. They will know how to find me."

"Of course."

"I will be leaving within the hour. Find Scorpius and check on him regularly. I shall see you when I return."

And with that, he strode out of the room and was gone, leaving Hermione sitting alone at the table.

Dmitry and Davius appeared suddenly in the room, bringing some of their golden mist with them and scaring Hermione half out of her wits. She jumped to her feet and stared at them, breathing heavily.

"We do apologize, madam, our intention was not to scare!" said the first, smiling brightly.

"Is everyone all finished?" asked the second.

"Yes… yes, we're quite done…" said Hermione, still reeling a little.

"Right-o, then!" exclaimed the first, and they loaded the dishes onto the same trays they had disappeared with earlier as quick as a flash and then disappeared to, Hermione assumed, the kitchen.

Curious creatures, truly…

* * *

A _homenum revelio_ spell showed Hermione that Scorpius was outside in the back gardens. It was there that she found him, oddly, chasing after a rabbit. She watched, amused, for a moment or two until she realized that something was amiss. She looked more carefully and noticed that, every few moments, the rabbit would freeze in place and Scorpius would catch up to it and pounce on it, poking and prodding it mercilessly, and then suddenly the rabbit would be free again and Scorpius would dash after it, laughing. Hermione, remembering what Draco had told her about Scorpius's magical ability and acting on her hatred for cruelty to animals, pulled out her wand as she ran over to where Scorpius was playing. By the time she got there Scorpius had frozen the rabbit again.

"_Finite Incantatem_," she said calmly, and she grabbed Scorpius by the elbow and watched the poor rabbit hop away to freedom. Scorpius squirmed in her grasp.

"Let me go!" he cried.

"Not yet," said Hermione, and she kneeled down to be on eye level with him and turned him to face her.

"I was only having fun!"

"I know you were, Scorpius, but you must listen to me."

"I only have to listen to my father!" he shouted.

"Not any more, Scorpius. I'm sure your father explained to you that I am to be your governess now."

"You're not my mother…" he grumbled.

"I know I'm not, but the governess of a house doesn't have to be your mother. Your father has put you in my care, thus it is his decision. I am, therefore, an extension of your father's authority and you must listen to me."

Scorpius was silent and refused to look at her, instead examining his shoes as he toed the ground.

"Your father is going away for a few days—"

"Again!" Scorpius cried, his head snapping up to look at her. He was clearly upset at this news.

"Does he travel often?" Hermione asked him, taking the risk of letting his arm go.

"All the time… he's never home…" Hermione wasn't happy that Scorpius's countenance was becoming gloomy, but at least it was better than obstinance.

"Where does he go?"

"How should I know, he never tells me anything," Scorpius snapped, unhappy with this lack of knowledge. "All I know is he sends me to Grandmama's when he leaves, and I hate it there!"

Draco had told Hermione that Scorpius was to be in her care all the time, so she knew that Scorpius's trips to Draco's mother's house were at an end. She knew that Narcissa had moved out of Malfoy Manor after Draco's father died and left the place to Draco, but she didn't know where she'd moved to.

"Well, I have some good news for you, Scorpius."

"What?" he asked, still sullen.

"You're not going to Grandmama's house this time."

"I'm not?" he asked, his face hopeful.

"Nope. You're staying here with me. You'll never have to go to Grandmama's again while I'm here." She smiled at him and he gave her a nervous smile back.

Well, even if he was only happy because anyone was probably better than Narcissa, she'd take what she could get.

* * *

"_Un… deux… trois… quatre… six…_"

"No, no, _cinq_ comes after _quatre_. Try again."

The day after Draco had left Hermione had spent some time teaching Scorpius the French alphabet after they'd finished his other studies. Today, she was teaching him to count to ten. They were sitting in what Draco had made Scorpius's school room. There was a chalkboard on one side with a few pieces of everlasting chalk, a small chair with an equally small desk for Scorpius to write on, and a larger desk for Hermione. Right now, however, they were sitting cross-legged on the floor facing each other.

"_Un… deux… trois… quatre… cinq… six… sept…_" he paused. "Erm… _sept…"_

"_Huit_," Hermione supplied.

"_Sept… huit… neuf… dix!" _He finished, beaming.

"You're still a little rough, but we're getting there!" Hermione said.

"Can I try again?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Okay." He took a deep breath, then started counting a bit faster than he had been before. "_Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix!"_

"Excellent!" Hermione cried, beaming. "You're pretty good at this. Let's see if you can still do that tomorrow." She looked at her watch. "It's almost twelve! Are you hungry?"

Scorpius nodded vigorously.

"Good, because Dmitry and Davius will be serving lunch any moment!"

Scorpius's countenance brightened considerably.

"I'll race you to the dining room!" Hermione said, getting to her feet.

"Okay!" Scorpius said, and before Hermione was even standing straight he dashed off. She laughed and ran after him. Now that she'd been here a few days she felt comfortable in dressing more casually. Today she was in a simple pair of jeans and a button down cotton blouse. Scorpius had asked her why she didn't dress like his father and she had explained that she and his father held very different positions in life and that his father was someone very important, so he had to dress nice and in his flowing robes all the time.

She had been guessing entirely, of course, but Scorpius had accepted her answer.

He was still a bit of a troublemaker but he was warming up to her quickly. She was sure that Draco was rather cold and harsh with him – did Draco know how to be anything else? – and so it was quite welcoming for Scorpius to have someone looking after him who was willing to laugh and smile and play and make jokes.

Lunch ended up being chicken noodle soup with home-baked bread. With Draco gone, Dmitry and Davius seemed to be catering the menu choices more to Scorpius's taste. At such a young age it was difficult for Scorpius to eat all the rich and decadent food that Draco preferred. Though they were still just as odd, and still had the gleaming golden skin clothed in tuxedos, Hermione was beginning to get used to and even grow fond of the two Orhommes. They seemed to be permanently elated and were eager to do anything to please their master.

Although she hated to admit it, Hermione thought she could definitely get used to living at Malfoy Manor in the lap of luxury.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without much event (Scorpius didn't manage to catch any more rabbits) aside from the sky darkening gradually with storm clouds. It was in the thick of spring and Hermione knew that heavy thunderstorms were going to be part of the norm so she wasn't too bothered. Night had just fallen over Malfoy Manor that Thursday evening at 7:45 when Hermione and Scorpius were in his room together. He was practicing his reading with a large-print children's version of the Tales of Beedle The Bard. He had just finished struggling through Babbity Rabbity when Hermione smiled at him and took the book.

"But I don't want to go to sleep yet, Hermione!" he protested.

"I know you don't, but it's almost eight o'clock and you know the rules! Don't you want to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow?"

"No!"

A typical five-year-old answer…

"Well that's a shame, because I want you to be well rested, and I certainly want to be well rested, and that means we both need to get to bed!"

"Just five more minutes?"

"That's what you said before we started reading Babbilty Rabbity and that ended up giving you fifteen minutes!"

"So?" he smiled. She returned the grin but stood her ground.

"No, Scorpius, it's bedtime."

He huffed. "Fine…"

Hermione pulled the covers up to his shoulders. "Good night, handsome. I'll see you at breakfast tomorrow morning. I heard a rumor that Dmitry and Davius are making chocolate chip pancakes!"

Scorpius's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Really, but the sooner you go to sleep the sooner you'll wake up to have them!"

"Okay!" he said, and immediately flopped down onto the pillow and closed his eyes. Hermione smiled to herself and stepped out of the room, whispering "_Nox_" as she went. Once she was a safe distance from Scorpius's room she called for Dmitry and he appeared in front of her.

"Yes, madam?"

She had no idea if it was really Dmitry or if it was Davius – she had no clue how to tell them apart – but she assumed the correct one had come and went on with her request.

"May I put in a suggestion for breakfast?"

"Certainly, madam."

"Scorpius would positively love it if you made chocolate chip pancakes in the morning."

"Absolutely madam. Breakfast is at eight!" And he disappeared.

Yes, she could _definitely_ get used to this…

* * *

Hermione had been lying in bed reading when the looming storm struck with a vengeance. She could hardly read two sentences between each loud clap of thunder and the startling flashes of lightning. She was only a few moments from resigning herself to figuring out how to reverse a silencing charm so that it prevented sound from coming _in_ rather than going _out_ when she heard a frantic knocking on her bedroom door. She immediately got out of bed and opened the door to find Scorpius there in his black silk pajamas looking positively terrified.

"Scorpius! What are you doing out of bed?" she asked.

"Hermione, I'm scared…" he said. She'd never seen the conniving child look so vulnerable.

"Oh, dear, do you not like thunderstorms?" she asked. He vigorously shook his head no and jumped forward when he heard another clap of thunder and wrapped his arms tightly around her legs. Her heart melted and she lifted him up off the ground.

"Here, I bet I can make you smile…" she said, and tossed him gently onto her bed and she jumped onto it with him in her nightdress.

"Have you ever had a pillow fight before?" she smiled.

"A what?"

"I guess not… well here's how you do it…" she said, and took one of the small decorative pillows from the bed and lightly tapped Scorpius on the head with it.

"Hey!" he cried, and he grabbed another, larger, pillow and swung it at her but she jumped backwards off the bed and it missed.

"Come get me!" she said, and Scorpius jumped off the bed and ran after her, managing to hit her with the pillow every so often. Hermione would stretch back and use her small pillow to hit him on the shoulder or the arm every so often but she let him think he was winning. Soon the room was filled with feathers and their laughter in the air and neither of them even noticed the thunder anymore.

* * *

Dmitry and Davius met Draco in the foyer, helping him out of his rain-soaked cloak and taking his bags from him.

"Have a good trip?" beamed the first.

"Splendid," Draco said dryly.

"We do apologize for the rain…" said the second.

"Not your fault," replied Draco, his words short.

"Your bags will be waiting in your room sir!" said the first, and he disappeared with them.

"Do you require dinner, sir?" asked the second.

"No thanks, I'm fine."

"Call if you need anything, sir," he finished, and he, too disappeared and left Draco alone in the foyer. He sighed heavily and made his way up the staircase with the intention of heading to his room in the east wing. However, he paused when he reached the landing. He could swear he could hear the faint sound of laughter coming from the west wing…

Too suspicious and curious not to investigate, despite his irritability and fatigue, he strode down the hallway of the west wing and opened the door of Hermione's quarters to find…

…absolute disaster.

Hermione and Scorpius were running about the room like lunatics, laughing and yelling and carrying on, with pillows in their hands – and they appeared to be _beating_ each other with them…

"What is this!" demanded Draco, and Hermione and Scorpius froze where they stood and turned to look at Draco.

"We're having a pillow fight, Father!" Scorpius explained, beaming, and obviously not sensing his father's anger the way Hermione did.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Draco…" she answered softly.

"Are you aware of the time?"

Hermione glanced at her bedside clock.

"It's 10:30, Draco."

"And when is Scorpius supposed to be in bed?"

"I had him in bed at 7:30 but—"

"When, Hermione."

"8:00, Draco."

Scorpius was now sensing the danger in the room.

"I'm sorry, Father, I heard the thunder and—"

"Scorpius, get to bed. It's already late. You and I will talk in the morning."

"Yes, Father."

And he disappeared as quick as he'd come.

"Draco, please understand… I had him in bed at 7:30, truly, but when the storm came he was frightened and came to me for comfort…"

"You should have sent him straight back to bed."

Hermione knew it was no good to argue.

"Yes, I should have. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Good. Good night, Hermione. I will see you at breakfast in the morning."

He shut the door a little too loudly behind him.

Hermione sighed and sank down onto her bed and surveyed the mess of her room. She pulled out her wand and muttered a few quick spells to repair the damage and then, exhausted, sank down onto the quilt and fell asleep right on top of the covers.


	3. Tender As I Wanna Be

**Quick Author's Note:** Decided to change the chapter titles all to Toby Keith songs. They seem to fit better. Also, I have updated my profile and added a picture, in case you're interested in what I look like. :)

* * *

**Chapter Three**

_Sunshine and Summertime_

_

* * *

_

Spring soon turned to summer and Hermione, to everyone's surprise, was greatly enjoying her stay at Malfoy Manor. She wrote her mother often and her mother usually thought Hermione was lying about her comfort at the manor in order to placate her, but she was truly happy. Scorpius was improving daily and he was especially loving his French lessons.

Draco still travelled often – it seemed he was away more than he was home – but Hermione and Scorpius adjusted accordingly. Draco never told either of them where he went, and despite Hermione's best efforts, she was never able to infer anything substantial enough to form into a hypothesis of his destinations.

Sometime around mid-June, shortly after Draco had returned from another of his excursions, he informed Hermione that Scorpius's sixth birthday was coming up on the twentieth of June.

"Oh goodness, that's only five days away!" she had exclaimed.

"Yes, I'm aware," he'd replied. "I was hoping for… possibly… your assistance with planning out his birthday…"

"Oh, yes, of course!" she'd said, all too happy to help.

"Excellent," he'd replied. "I've never really done a whole lot for him, I've never known what to do…"

Hermione had been shocked to see him, for the first time, looking uncertain. She marveled at his concern for his son. He always seemed so aloof. Scorpius had probably never had a proper birthday, but now that she was here, he was willing to at least make some kind of effort to make it special.

She'd be damned, she had thought, if she ruined this chance to make Scorpius smile.

And so that was why, the following day, she and Draco were out – together, in public – in Hogsmeade, searching for gifts for Scorpius. They had, regrettably, had to leave him with Narcissa for the day.

"I normally leave everything up to Dmitry and Davius… they seem to know what they're doing… but I had a feeling that you may have hit me if I tried that this year…" he was saying.

"I'd get fired if I hit my boss!" Hermione declared, smiling. He smiled back and she was glad that he was finally beginning to relax around her.

"So what does he like? What's he interested in?" Draco asked her.

Hermione paused.

"You mean you don't know?" she asked slowly.

Draco sighed. "Hermione, you know I'm not around much…"

"Yes but I don't think I realized quite how little you knew your own son…"

He cut her off. "Please, Hermione, not now. I'm trying, all right?"

She supposed he was right. No time like the present, after all.

Speaking of presents… they had work to do.

"Well, he's really falling in love with the French language… I suppose we could look for a French storybook for him, he's getting very good at reading."

"What else?"

"Hmm. I've been teaching him a bit about potion theories… just basic stuff, you know, not making anything and not teaching him about anything complicated… he seems very interested in the potions concepts."

"Don't they have 'My First Potions Kits' around somewhere?" Draco asked. Hermione looked bewildered.

"I haven't a clue. Is it like the muggle 'My First Chemistry Sets'?" she asked. Draco looked just as confused as she was and she realized they were speaking two different languages. She knew almost nothing about wizarding childhood (though she was slowly learning from Scorpius), just as he knew nothing of muggle childhood.

"It's just a set of basic, common potion ingredients… it comes with a little plastic cauldron and a miniature book of some of the most commonplace, basic potions… stuff even easier than we learned in first year at Hogwarts. It's really quite a neat little thing, actually…" he trailed off.

Hermione could have sworn she saw him blush.

"You had one didn't you!" she declared. "When you were younger?"

Yes, he was definitely blushing.

"Professor Snape was always very close with my family… he gave me a set when I was seven or so."

"Oh, Draco, that's just darling. No wonder you always did so well in Potions class!"

Draco was obviously unhappy with the attention and kept his mouth set.

"Right, well, we will certainly try to find one of those for him," he said.

"He could also use some play clothes… all I ever see him in are dressy things."

"Is it a crime to want my son to look nice?"

"Look nice for who, Draco? Dmitry and Davius? He's not out and about all the time like you. He runs, he plays, he scavenges… he needs more comfortable clothes for that."

Draco grunted and she took that as approval.

"Right, well, I think we have some good ideas, let's get on it, shall we?" she smiled.

* * *

They found the potions kit with almost no trouble at all at the local apothecary, and the clothes just as easily from a children's clothing store. Hermione had ogled over what she considered an adorable T-shirt that was bright green and had "Daddy's Little Wizard" on it in bold white lettering, but only after repeated pleas did Draco consent to buy it.

"No one is ever allowed to see him in that," he demanded, but Hermione just smiled. She gave him the lead for the rest of the clothes and they ended up getting him a few pairs of jeans and some cotton and flannel shirts that were far less embarrassing for Draco.

The French book turned out to be a little more difficult to find. The small international section of the bookstore contained only adult literature or other things far too advanced for Scorpius. They'd ended up having to ask at the counter and the woman had told them that in consideration of space they kept most of the less popular foreign books in the backroom. Hermione and Draco had been forced to stand by and wait for ten minutes while she searched until she eventually emerged holding a red, leather bound book emblazoned in gold lettering with the words, "Les Contes de Beedle le Barde."

"I thought this fit what you were looking for," the woman said, handing it to Hermione.

"Oh, yes, it's perfect! Thanks so much!"

"Beedle the Bard in French," said Draco as he was paying. "Who would have thought…"

"You never know until you ask!" Hermione beamed.

* * *

Satisfied with their purchases of the day, Draco and Hermione left Hogsmeade separately. Hermione apparated back to the manor in order to hide the gifts and Draco apparated to his mother's to pick up a very grateful Scorpius. By the time they were all back in the manor it was time for dinner (chicken cordon bleu with asparagus, the latter of which visibly disgusted poor Scorpius).

"So how was your day with Grandmama?" Hermione asked him.

"It was awful!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. Why was it so horrid?" Hermione asked.

"She made me drink the most awful tasting tea… and made me recite the French I've learned… and read to me out of the most boring books… and forced me to eat vegetables… and… and…"

"Okay, all right, I get it! It sounds like it was absolutely terrible! But your father forces you to eat your vegetables too, you know."

"Well I don't want to eat this junk…" Scorpius said, pushing his asparagus around his plate. He had hardly gotten the words out when Dmitry - or Davius – appeared beside him.

"Did the young master just call my cooking, 'junk'?" he asked, yet still with a smile on his face. Scorpius was silent but looked quite guilty.

"Well, young sir, I have prepared a special dessert tonight and you won't get so much as a taste unless you finish every last morsel of that asparagus!"

Scorpius's eyes widened.

"What's the dessert?" he demanded.

"You won't find out until that plate is cleared!" answered the Orhomme in a sing-song voice. With that, he disappeared.

Hermione smirked and Draco was staring at the spot where the Orhomme had been in awe.

"Well, you heard him," Hermione said. "Eat up!"

Scorpius gave his asparagus a determined look, closed his eyes, and slowly but surely put forkful after forkful in his mouth until all of it was gone. Just as Scorpius finished the last painful swallow, Dmitry – or Davius – appeared behind Draco holding a tray of dessert glasses, inside of which was—

"Chocolate pudding!" Scorpius exclaimed.

"Oh, young sir, this is no ordinary chocolate pudding. This is special. It's _mousse du chocolat_, and it is positively divine!" said the Orhomme as he placed it in front of each of them.

"Remember to eat it slowly and savor it!" he said, and with one last smile he disappeared again.

Scorpius, of course, did not heed those words and gobbled the dessert down before Draco and Hermione had even halfway finished theirs.

"Mmmmm…" he said, and slouched down in his chair. "Father, I'm tired…"

"You're dismissed," Draco said. "Go on up to your room and lie down. Hermione will be along."

Scorpius was gone without another word, and then Dmitry – Hermione assumed by now that it was Dmitry, anyway – reappeared.

"Now that the young master has gone to bed… Cappuccino, sir or madame?"

"One for each of us," Draco answered.

"Right away sir," and he disappeared.

The two were silent for a moment.

"Draco," Hermione started.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I really have to give you credit for today. I know it must be hard for you, raising a son without a… without Isabella. I know you're gone a lot, and I don't know where you go or why you're there, but I know that some part of you must miss Scorpius while you're gone."

"Yes, I do."

"And I know you love him."

"Of course."

"And I'm glad that you're finally learning how to show him that."

Draco paused and stared at her for a moment.

She really had no idea. Her presence in the manor had warmed the place so immensely that it was hardly recognizable. Even Dmitry and Davius were smiling more – if that was possible – and Scorpius was quickly becoming a good and studious child compared to the troublemaking terror he once was. She was more than a governess… She had turned his house from a cold and threatening manor into a warm and beautiful home.

He suddenly realized that her hair was down – it so rarely was down anymore. It was long and fell in loose waves to at least six inches past her shoulder. Her lips were moist from drinking the wine they'd had with dinner. Though it was plain, her cotton blouse hugged close to her body and, for the first time, he actually took notice of her curves.

She was – like she had made his home – beautiful.

"Draco?" she said tentatively.

He blinked a time or two and struck his inappropriate thoughts away.

"Yes?"

"You're staring."

"Oh! Well, you see, I was trying to figure out the most delicate way to tell you that you had a bit of chocolate on the corner of your mouth…" As he said it, he leaned over toward her and wiped the tiny bit of mousse off with his thumb. "…but I figured it was best if I just didn't say anything and took care of it myself."

Hermione shivered a little when his finger touched her. She wracked her brain, but it was truly the first time she remembered ever having any type of physical contact with him while she was there.

Funny, how something so innocent could seem so sensual.

"Thank you," she finally said, blushing a little.

"Two cappuccinos for the sir and lady!" came Dmitry's voice, and Draco and Hermione both jumped, as they hadn't noticed him appear in the room.

"Whipped cream?" he asked as he set each in front of them.

"Please," they said together, and with a wave of his hand Dmitry made a hefty dollop of whipped cream appear on the top of each of the clear Irish coffee mugs.

"If you need anything else, just call!" he said, and with his usual smile disappeared.

Hermione took a sip of the delicious drink and when she put the mug down Draco smiled and cleared his throat.

"What?" she asked when he chuckled at her.

"You're just a mess tonight aren't you?" he said, and took his index finger and wiped a dab of whipped cream off the tip of her nose.

Hermione couldn't help herself and she laughed and so did Draco, and neither of them could get themselves to stop for a few minutes.

By the time they had finally calmed down and finished their cappuccinos, it had been a half an hour since Scorpius had gone upstairs – it was nearing seven o'clock.

"I told Scorpius you'd be along…" Draco reminded Hermione as they were leaving the dining room.

"I know you did, but I think maybe you should go up instead."

Draco paused.

"Why?"

"Can you imagine how thrilled he'd be to have you in there to read with instead of me?"

Draco was silent and appeared to be thinking.

"I'll go with you and stand outside the door if you like, should you need me…"

"All right, I can handle that," he decided, and they went upstairs together.

When they arrived outside Scorpius's room the door was left open a crack, so Draco pushed it open. Hermione stood down the hall, waiting.

When he looked inside the room, his heart just about melted.

Scorpius was sitting up in the bed under the covers, propped up on his pillows, but he had fallen asleep. His head was lolling off to one side and he had begun to slouch down. The Tales of Beedle The Bard lay open on his lap, somewhere in the middle of Babbity Rabbity. Hermione had mentioned that was his favorite tale. He sighed and smiled, quietly stepped into the room, and gingerly took the book from Scorpius's limp hands. Draco heard his heavy breathing of sleep as he closed the book and set it on the bedside table. Carefully, he slowly laid Scorpius down so that he was fully horizontal. As he was pulling the covers up, however, Scorpius stirred and blearily half-opened his eyes.

"Father?"

"Shh. Go back to sleep. You're tired."

"Hermione…" he mumbled.

"She thinks you should go to bed too," he assured him. "Don't worry. We will both see you in the morning."

"Mmkay…" he said, and closed his eyes again as Draco pulled the blankets up to his chin. Just like that, Scorpius was fast asleep again.

"Good night, my son," Draco said, and kissed him lightly on the forehead.

Hermione, who had crept up to the door when she didn't hear any voices, was watching the whole episode from the doorway. She couldn't believe how tender Draco was being. She had seen such a dramatic change in him since she'd arrived two months previously. Who would have thought that the cold, harsh father who shooed his son away and didn't even know his favorite things would now be sweetly kissing him goodnight?

She smiled when he looked up and noticed her watching. He grinned back sheepishly and extinguished the bedside lamp with his wand as he left the room and closed the door behind him.

"Wow," was all Hermione said.

"What?"

"That was amazing."

"Was it?"

"How did it feel?"

Draco thought a bit before answering.

"It felt… right."

Hermione just smiled in reply.


	4. You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This

**Chapter Four**

_You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This_

* * *

June twentieth came quickly. Hermione and Draco both rose early that morning and met Dmitry and Davius in the dining room. One carried a tray with a full breakfast of chocolate chip pancakes drenched in syrup, a mound of bacon, and a steaming mug of hot chocolate. The other held a beautifully wrapped gift which, Hermione guessed by the size, looked like a book.

"All ready to wake the young master?" asked the one holding the food.

"We are oh so excited to give him his present and breakfast!" said the other.

Draco chuckled. "Yes, I think he's slept long enough. Go on ahead, we'll meet you upstairs."

"Yes, sir!" they said together, and disappeared. As Draco and Hermione were walking up the steps they heard Scorpius's shout from his room: "Wow! Thanks!" They arrived just in time to see him tearing open the paper on his present to reveal, as Hermione had suspected, a thick book.

Scorpius carefully sounded out the title.

"The Young Wizard's Cookbook, by Dmitry and Davius…" He paused. "Wait, you wrote this?"

"Yes we did!" they chimed together. "Just for you!"

"Wow!" exclaimed Scorpius again. "So this will teach me how to cook?"

"With the proper supervision," cautioned the first.

"That's the only copy!" said the second.

"Thanks!" Scorpius was beaming.

"Well don't let it get cold, eat up!" said the first Orhomme.

"Yes, we worked extra hard on that, we expect to see it all gone!" said the second. They both smiled and then were gone. Scorpius then noticed Draco and Hermione in the doorway.

"Happy birthday, Scorpius," they said together. He grinned at them and then started perusing the book Dmitry and Davius had given him.

"Aren't you going to eat your breakfast?" asked Hermione. "If you don't, I certainly will!"

"Oh right!" said Scorpius, as if he'd completely forgotten. He pulled the tray onto his lap and immediately began eating. Draco stayed in the doorway while Hermione sat down on the foot of the bed.

"I have my birthday present for you, too, Scorpius," she said.

"Wha ish if?" he mumbled through a mouthful of pancake.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, dear," she said gently, smiling. "My gift to you is that we won't be doing any studies today."

Scorpius finished chewing and swallowed before replying. "None?" he asked, bewildered.

"That's right. Absolutely none! Today is your special day to spend however you like. Dmitry and Davius are willing to make anything you like for lunch and dinner. All you have to do is ask. You just tell us what you want to do and we'll find a way to make it happen."

"Within reason, of course," Draco chimed in from the doorway. Scorpius was grinning from ear to ear – between mouthfuls of breakfast – and Draco was sure that he'd never seen him happier. He was determined to start doing this parenting thing right, and making his son's sixth birthday the best it could be was definitely a great way to start, he thought.

"So, Scorpius," said Hermione when he was nearly finished eating, "what sorts of things would you like to do today?"

He swallowed his last delicious bite of pancake, then said, "I don't know!"

Hermione glanced at Draco. They'd expected that. Draco had never let Scorpius have much "fun." Not anything outside the manor, at least.

"Well then," she began, turning back to Scorpius, "I think I have an idea."

Scorpius stared at her, waiting.

"I know of a few really excellent places in a town called Hogsmeade that you would just love…"

Scorpius seemed skeptical. "Like what?"

"Like a giant candy shop called Honeyduke's, and a huge joke shop called Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

She chanced a glance at Draco and she noticed him stiffen when she mentioned Fred and George's shop. Well, tough. Scorpius would love it and Draco would just have to deal with it.

"Ooh! Let's go, let's go, let's go!" shouted Scorpius, practically jumping in place in his bed.

"All right, it's a plan! Let's get you dressed and ready and we'll be there within an hour!" said Hermione, and Scorpius nearly leapt out of the bed in his excitement.

* * *

As promised, an hour later they were in the crowded but quaint streets of Hogsmeade and heading for Honeyduke's. Scorpius was positively shaking with excitement and it was all Draco and Hermione could do to keep him contained.

"Are you sure allowing him access to this much sugar is a good idea?" Draco whispered to Hermione over Scorpius's head.

"Draco, he's six. Let the poor thing have a little fun…" she chided. He replied with silence and she took it as admission of her correctness.

"Here we are!" she said when they arrived in front of it.

Scorpius's smile looked like it might break his face in two when he walked through the door.

"Wow!" he yelled, attracting the attention of several shop goers. Draco avoided the gaze of all of them while Hermione sent them apologetic smiles. The two of them watched at a distance as Scorpius bounced from display to display looking at everything. Eventually, he made his way back to Draco.

"Father, there's so much here! Chocolate frogs and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and Everlasting Gobbstoppers and—"

"Trust me, I know the selection," Draco said. "I used to come here all the time, myself."

"Really?" said Scorpius, his eyes widening.

"Yes indeed, I did," he smiled. "You can get whatever you want—"

"_Really?_" shouted Scorpius, again attracting the attention of passersby.

"—whatever you want _up to five galleons worth_," Draco finished sternly.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, knowing that £25 worth of candy was quite a hefty amount for a six year old, but said nothing.

Scorpius's eyes seemed like they'd pop right out of their sockets.

"_Five galleons!_" he cried, and practically disappeared in front of their eyes like Dmitry and Davius did at the manor.

Hermione just shook her head and smiled.

"What?" Draco demanded.

"He sure is something," she said. He paused.

"Yeah, I guess he is," Draco admitted.

"I keep picturing him as a miniature version of you, wondering if you were like that as a child."

"I was not nearly that excited," Draco protested.

"Because that wasn't your disposition, or because your father wouldn't let you be?" she prodded.

She took Draco's stony silence as an affirmative of the latter. Wanting to avoid the uncomfortable moment, she changed the subject.

"How much are you going to let him spend at the joke shop?"

"Five galleons, just like here, though I'm a little nervous about what he'll find."

"Everything they have is completely harmless…" Hermione argued.

"I know that, but I don't want my son playing practical jokes on me in the middle of the night…"

"I think he knows better than to do that," Hermione said gently. "More than likely, he will try to use a few on Narcissa, though…"

Draco tried his hardest to hide his smile.

* * *

Half an hour later they left Honeyduke's laden with bags and a slightly depressed Scorpius, as Draco had forbidden him from eating any of the delicious sweets until they got home.

"But Father, you said I could do anything I wanted!" he complained.

"I said anything _within reason_. Gorging on candy in public is not within reason."

"Fine…" Scorpius pouted. He was walking alongside his father and holding his hand. Hermione stood on Scorpius's other side.

"Besides," said Draco as they rounded a corner, "I wanted to show you something."

"What, Father?" asked Scorpius, looking up at him, his curiosity getting the better of his sadness. Draco picked him up in reply so Scorpius could be on the same eye level as Draco. Hermione smiled and stood back to let them have the Father-son moment.

"Look straight ahead of us, way ahead, and up that hill. What do you see?" he asked.

Scorpius squinted. "I see a great big castle! With lots of towers and buildings and windows!" He paused, then let out a great gasp. "Is there a dragon guarding it with a princess inside like in Beedle's book?" he exclaimed.

Draco and Hermione both burst out laughing.

"No, Scorpius, there's not a dragon guarding it, and there's definitely no princesses inside, although right now there's probably a fair few pretty girls taking some final exams…"

Scorpius looked perplexed. Draco smiled.

"That castle is a school, Scorpius. Do you remember me mentioning that someday you'd be going off to a real school to learn how to use magic like I do?"

Scorpius nodded.

"Well, that's it. It's called Hogwarts, and someday it will be your home while you learn how to use, control, and perfect your magical skills."

Scorpius's eyes resembled saucers.

"Really father?" he asked, his voice laden with awe.

"Yes, really. I went there and so did Hermione. That's where she learned all the wonderful things she's been teaching you."

At this, Scorpius looked over at Hermione and beamed at her. She smiled back, her heart warming at all her memories of Hogwarts and imagining the kinds of things Scorpius would get into there.

Speaking of memories of Hogwarts…

"Well, no use dallying!" Hermione said. "We have a joke shop to visit, I believe!"

Scorpius's smile changed from wistful to elated.

"Oh, right! Come on, Father, let's go!" he said, squirming to get down from Draco's arms.

* * *

Hermione's heart gave a little wrench when they reached the shop. "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes: Fred & George Weasley, Owners" was still inscribed on the window in purple and gold lettering. She paused and stared at it for a moment. Draco didn't notice at first but stopped at the door when he noticed she wasn't following. He walked over to her and looked at the window with her, Scorpius following.

Scorpius, ever the reader, noticed the words and sounded them out.

"Wheezy's… wiz-ard-ing… wheezes…" he started. Hermione didn't have the heart to correct him. "Fred and George… Wheezy… Owners." He beamed at Hermione, expecting praise.

She gave a sad smile. "Very good, Scorpius. Those were some big words."

"Will we see…" – he glanced back at the window – "Fred and George Wheezy inside?"

Hermione swallowed hard. "You know, I bet for sure we'll see George in there, but I don't know about Fred."

"Why not Fred?" Scorpius asked innocently. Draco suddenly remembered why Hermione seemed so extraordinarily sad.

Hermione did her best to smile at Scorpius. "Fred hasn't been around for a while. Sort of left George to take care of the shop on his own, but he doesn't mind."

"Oh," said Scorpius, struggling with the concept. "Well, that's just silly!" he declared.

"Brothers do silly things, sometimes," Hermione admitted. "Come on, let's go inside and see if we can meet George." She glanced at Draco and he gave her a sympathetic glance before leading Scorpius inside by the hand.

As final exams were currently taking place at Hogwarts, the shop's most frequent buyers weren't populating the place at the moment and it was relatively empty. Thus, George – who still had only one ear - noticed immediately when the three strode in.

"Good morning and welcome to Weasley's Wizarding—" he stopped when he recognized Hermione. She smiled.

"Hermione!" he cried, embracing her in a hug. "How lovely! Haven't seen you in ages! Ron still won't shut up about you…" his voice faded as he noticed who was with her.

"Who've you brought with you then?" he asked skeptically, suspecting who it was by his looks but not wanting to judge.

"Actually, George, he's the one who brought me here… I'm sure you remember Draco Malfoy…"

George nodded his head as acknowledgement. Draco did the same.

"…and he's brought his son, Scorpius along. It's his sixth birthday today, you see, and we thought—"

"Oh, a _birthday,_ you say?" exclaimed George, quickly regaining his happy composure. Hermione figured that George wasn't one to pass along hatred to one's heirs. "We have special things just _for_ birthdays here at Weasley's…"

"Why do you only have one ear?" Scorpius interrupted.

"Ah! Yes, that. Been so long I forget about it most days. I had a run in with a mad, dark wizard a few years back!" George exclaimed darkly.

"Really?" asked Scorpius, amazed.

"That's right!" declared George.

"Are you George?" Scorpius asked.

"Why yes, I am!" George said, beaming.

"I read your name on the window," Scorpius replied, glowing with pride.

"Well what a precocious little six year old you are!" George said, ruffling Scorpius's hair. (Draco cringed.) "Go on, why don't you and your daddy explore the shop, and you just ask me if you have any questions. I'll make sure to whip up a special birthday present just for you!" he finished. Draco forced a smile and led Scorpius away through the rows of shelves and tables. Once they were safely out of earshot, George lost his smile and looked at Hermione carefully.

"Hermione, I'm sorry, but I really have to ask—"

"What on earth am I doing in a joke shop having been brought by Draco Malfoy?" she finished.

"Well, yeah. I mean you two aren't _dating_ are you?"

"Oh good heavens, no!" she cried, ignoring the skip in her stomach when George had suggested the idea. "No, Scorpius's mother actually died shortly after he was born and now that he's of learning age, Draco has hired me on at Malfoy Manor as Scorpius's… governess, in lieu of a mother."

George was silent for a moment, the raised his eyebrows.

"You can't be serious."

"Quite serious, George."

Silence again.

"But you're _Hermione Granger_!" George declared suddenly, as if this were the answer to everything. "You're the brightest witch of the age, maybe of the _century_! How in the world are you working as a lowly _governess_ for sod like _Malfoy_?"

Hermione sighed.

"Unfortunately, George, being the right hand woman to Harry Potter, even coupled with being 'the brightest witch of the age,' cannot compete in the real world with a full, official schooling. No one will hire someone who didn't finish all their years at either Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, or Durmstrang."

George appeared very frustrated.

"Well goodness, Hermione, why haven't you told anyone? Certainly one of us could have helped you…"

Another sigh.

"My mother needed me at home. My father died shortly after I returned after the war and she was lonely and heartbroken… after a while I became comfortable there, but eventually I knew I needed to get out and do something. I tried and tried to get a decent job somewhere, anywhere, but no one wanted me. Seems the wizarding world has no place for school-drop-out heroes. Finally, I saw the ad in the paper for governess of Malfoy Manor and I thought, what the hell, why not? So I wrote him and he, amazingly, accepted and… here I am."

George looked dumbfounded. He lowered his voice a little more before continuing.

"How's he… you know… treating you? Everything all right? He got you cursed or something?"

Hermione chuckled. "No, George, he hasn't cursed me. He treats me well enough. He's still Draco Malfoy, but he's learning how to be a father."

George let out a little huff.

"Well," he said finally, "If you ever need anything – anything at all, for any reason – you know where to find me. All right?"

"All right, George," she conceded, closing the conversation with a smile. "Didn't you say you were going to put something together for little Scorpius?" she reminded.

"Ah, right, that I did!" he exclaimed, almost giving her whiplash for how quickly he bounced back to the happy-go-lucky shop owner she knew.

"He's a cute kid, really," George admitted. "Seems like he'll be talented."

"He's very smart. He learns quickly."

"Maybe having lessons from you will teach him how not to be a slimy git like his father…" George mumbled, because Draco and Scorpius were returning to the front of the store and he didn't want to be overheard.

"_Only_ five galleons father?" Scorpius cried. "It's not _nearly_ enough! Please, just a galleon more… there's _so much_ here!"

Hermione chuckled to herself. Five galleons had seemed like a treasure's chest full to Scorpius at Honeyduke's, yet here it was paltry. She had a vague feeling that Draco was hoping in vain that his son would not grow up to be a natural marauder.

George, overhearing this, interrupted. "Five galleons! Why, five galleons can buy an awful lot in this place! Here, let me show you around," he said, and took Scorpius by the hand and led him back into the store.

"I don't think I remembered him being quite so animated at Hogwarts," Draco admitted.

"He's a little over the top," Hermione conceded, "but he's compensating for the lack of his brother."

Draco was silent.

"I always looked down on the Weasley twin's behavior, but after the war got bad, I realized that some jokes and smiles were just what people needed… It's really great, what they did here. They started up in the thick of a war and they're still successful today."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right," Draco said.

"I can't imagine how difficult it must be for George. Losing a brother is hard, but losing a twin is just awful… there's a bond there between them that's broken."

"I'm sure."

Realizing that Draco didn't want to continue the conversation in this vein, she switched it.

"George is quite taken with Scorpius. Says he has a lot of promise."

Draco smiled a little. "That's good to hear. I hope he does well."

"I think he will. He really does very well with me in his lessons, Draco."

Draco looked over at her. She looked back.

"Somehow, I knew he would. That's why I accepted your application without question. I never even thought about taking anyone else."

Hermione was taken aback.

"What do you mean, Draco?"

"I mean that your owl was the first one I'd received, and I never even considered any others. I knew how you'd been in school, I knew that you had a caring heart, and I just knew that you'd be good for my son."

Hermione was shocked.

"In fact," Draco pushed on, "You've been more than good for Scorpius. You've turned him from a troublemaking pain to a genuinely good kid, and in just two months. He adores you. I've never seen him smile so much as when he's around you." He paused. "Actually, _I've_ never smiled so much in five years until you came along…"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat as his eyes met hers. She, Hermione Granger, was making Malfoy smile? Making him happy?

"Thank you, Draco," was all she could manage to get out. "That's really very touching, truly… I've greatly enjoyed my time at Malfoy Manor so far."

"Have you really?" he asked. It seemed he didn't fully believe her.

"Yes, I really have. Scorpius is wonderful, Dmitry and Davius are just fascinating and you…" she trailed off.

"I?" Draco prompted. He waited.

"You're… just… you're hardly a boss. You're a companion. A… friend…" she tried out the word.

Draco considered that for a moment. He'd never been much of a true "friend" to anyone. Most Slytherins were always out for themselves, no one else. Friendship was something only pretended, a mock-up for appearances.

Yet Hermione considered him a friend…

"Who would have thought," he replied, and smiled. "Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger… friends…"

She gave a small smile back. "Who would have thought, indeed…" she said. She stopped when she saw George and Scorpius returning from the back of the store, both of them with arms full of merchandise.

"Oh, dear…" Hermione said. Draco saw, too. They piled all of it onto the counter.

"See, lad?" George was saying. "_All_ of this, _plus_ your birthday surprise" – George placed a wrapped box with a bow on top of the pile – "for a lowly five galleons."

For Scorpius, it might as well have been Christmas morning. His smile was brighter than sunshine.

Hermione and Draco, however, were staring in disbelief. Hermione knew the relative cost of some of the items in that pile and just two of the items together were worth five galleons…

"So how about it, Dad?" George said. "Five galleons for the lot."

For a moment, Draco couldn't speak.

"George…" Hermione started. "That's just… that's… _impossible_…"

"Nothing is impossible for a friend of yours, Hermione."

"Twenty galleons," Draco suddenly said. "I'll give you twenty for all of it and not a knut less."

"No, only five galleons," George corrected with a smile, as if Draco were being positively silly for wanting to pay more.

"Twenty," replied Draco firmly.

"Five."

"Fifteen."

"Only five."

"Ten, then."

"Truly, five is enough!"

Hermione was amazed. Absolutely amazed. George didn't even seem miffed about it. Surely he was gaining no profit whatsoever, even _losing_ money on this deal. But he was doing this simply because of Hermione's love and care for Scorpius…

However, she knew that Draco's pride would never let him take charity from a member of the Weasley family, so she dug in her purse until she found five galleons and laid them on the table.

"Done. Five galleons. Thank you so much for all your help, George!" she beamed.

"Thank you, George Wheezy!" Scorpius exclaimed.

Draco glared at her.

"Hermione…"

"I'll just get this all bagged up for you then!" George smiled and waved his wand and in a moment all the goods were standing before them in bright orange and purple bags.

"Wow!" was Scorpius's reaction. He picked up a smaller bag while Hermione gathered up the rest and handed a few off to Draco.

"Hermione…" he growled again.

"Yes Draco?"

"What. Are. You. Doing."

"Making sure your son's birthday is as good as it can be," she said sweetly. "Do help me carry these, won't you?"

He was fuming, she knew it, but she didn't care. She wasn't about to let George lose that battle and she'd do anything to make Scorpius smile.

* * *

As soon as they were home, Scorpius ran upstairs to examine all the things he'd gotten from the joke shop. That left Hermione and Draco alone in the foyer. Draco put a hand in his pocket and counted out twenty galleons and handed them to Hermione. She refused.

"Draco, if you insist on paying me for it, give me the five galleons I gave up. Only five."

"I'm trying to give you what all of that was _worth_…" he said.

"According to George, it was only worth five galleons," she said, smirking.

"You and I both know that's not true."

"So what? That's what I paid for it, and that's all I'm going to take from you as payment."

Draco was silent for a moment, then decided he could just make up the extra fifteen galleons in her next paycheck, and handed over the five coins.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled.

The rest of the day passed quickly. Scorpius requested his favorite, chicken noodle soup, for lunch and spaghetti with meatballs for dinner. Dmitry and Davius were all too happy to oblige, and even came out with a massive chocolate cake with six candles alighting the top of it after they'd finished eating. After dinner, Draco and Hermione gave Scorpius the gifts they'd bought earlier in the week (he loved everything but the clothes) and then, after making a few potions from the kit and reading a French story, it was time for Scorpius to go to bed. Draco tucked him in again. Hermione stayed down in the parlor, knowing that Draco was now perfectly capable of taking Scorpius to bed on his own.

She had just gotten up from her chair to grab another book when Draco entered the room again. She put her current book down on the side table.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Sleeping soundly," he replied. "As I pulled the covers up he said, 'Thank you, Father.' I said 'For what, son?' Then he said, 'For the best birthday ever…' and then he fell asleep."

Hermione knew he was trying to look modest but he couldn't fully hide his happiness at his son's pleasure in him as a father.

"Thank _you_, Hermione," he added.

"For?"

"For being the one who _truly_ made this the best birthday ever for Scorpius. I hope he will have many more to come with you."

"Draco I… thank you, but… I mean… I was only doing my job…"

He took a step towards her.

"I think you and I both know that this is more than just a job for you…"

Hermione was silent, not wanting the conversation to come to this.

"In fact, I think we know that you're more than just an employee to me…" he added, taking another step closer to her.

Hermione felt like her heart might beat right out of her chest. _Surely_ he could hear it, feel it, it was practically shaking the room…

He took one last step towards her, and then there were only mere inches between them. Hermione's breath caught and seemed to stop entirely. She moved her gaze upward, met his eyes, and then slowly found them closing as he leaned forward, put his hand on the back of her neck, and gently touched his lips to hers.


	5. Rock You, Baby

**Author's Note:** Just a warning, this chapter gets steamy. ALSO, I have something **very important** to announce: I have created a website specifically for you guys, my readers, to communicate with me through. Fanfiction comminucation gets… trying… and doesn't work a lot… and I'd like to communicate with you on a more personal level! You can check it out at " spicysugar368 **dot** tumblr **dot** com " … of course removing the spaces and replacing the word "dot" with a period. It gives you the ability to read any updates I may have, ask me questions about stories, and even submit suggestions for the plots of current or future stories. I'm excited about it! Go check it out and have fun!

* * *

**Chapter Five**

_Rock You Baby_

* * *

Hermione felt a jolt of electricity from her lips down to her toes when he kissed her. She hardly let herself dare to believe that Draco Malfoy had just – was still – kissing her. In that moment when their lips connected everything in the world fell away. It was just the two of them, alone in his parlor… she was no longer a governess, and he was no longer a master. They were merely two people, together but dreadfully alone, who wanted each other desperately.

It was because of this that Hermione let herself go and she fell into the kiss and kissed Draco back fervently. Her arms snaked around his neck and he pulled her even closer as he massaged her lips with his own before he gently slipped his tongue into her mouth to touch hers.

There was that jolt of electricity again.

She gave a slight gasp and responded, letting their tongues dance together… lazily at first, and then quicker and more passionately. Soon there was no space left between them at all as she was pressed close against his body. She could feel his muscles moving, feel the warmth of his body…

Feel the evidence of his arousal against her thigh…

"Hermione," he groaned through the kiss, when she gently pressed her thigh against him.

"Mmm…" was all she replied, moving her kisses to his neck.

"I want you."

"I want you too," she murmured into his skin. She didn't care that she hadn't had sex in years, didn't care that he was her employer, didn't care that it could ruin the friendship they had so precariously built… She had never wanted anyone so desperately before in her life. Desire had washed over her as suddenly as a waterfall and her body was eager to meet that need.

Before she was fully aware of what was happening, he'd lifted her into his arms and was carrying her up the stairs and leading her to – what she only assumed must be – his room.

Perhaps if she had been in a different state of mind, she would have taken more notice of the look of his room, but all she really managed to notice was that the color scheme and furniture style were similar to what was contained in her room, but that Draco's room was on the east wing while hers was on the west. That was all that the back of her mind had the time and energy to process before he laid her down on the bed, continuing to kiss her all the while. He moved his lips from her mouth down to her jawline, and then onto her neck. After teasing her a bit, he found the crook of her neck where it met her shoulder and gently bit down.

He got a hefty moan of pleasure in response and made a mental note.

She, meanwhile, was fumbling down the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them as quickly as she could. His shirt soon stood open, revealing a pale but toned torso underneath. He was straddling her, on his knees, so the shirt fell away from his body easily but, of course, was still held to him by the arms. She tugged at it to give him a hint and he quickly sat up, shrugged it off, and then resumed his business about her neck, driving her absolutely insane with need and desire. It had been ages since she'd felt sensations like this… and she was loving every second of it.

Draco was now likewise unbuttoning her blouse – while still kissing on her neck – with motions as smooth as silk.

She tried not to think about how many times he'd probably done this before… which was made very easy when he finally got her shirt open (revealing a plain black bra – she was suddenly self conscious about not wearing something slightly more seductive) and began nibbling at her collarbones. She yelped in surprise and pleasure.

"Good?" he asked, glancing up at her.

"Yes…" she answered, panting a little. No one had ever done that before… He just smirked and slowly guided her to a sitting position, where he removed her shirt and, practically in the same motion, unhooked her bra. Her breath caught when she felt the elastic release its hold and she held that breath as his eyes locked with hers while he slowly pulled the bra down her arms and let it slide over her hands and onto the floor where their shirts resided. She felt her body slowly let out the breath as he laid her back down and lowered his head down to hers and captured her mouth in another kiss, lingering and needy.

As he kissed her, his right hand slowly graced up her side and eventually landed on her breast. Her nipple felt hard beneath his palm as he rubbed and caressed. He was finding it more and more difficult to take things slowly… He gave her nipple a tentative pinch and she jerked beneath him and she let out what he thought sounded like a purr… He tried again and she made the same noise, but she didn't seem to be stopping him, so he continued.

Hermione's mind was going wild. They were hardly doing anything at all and she wanted him more desperately that she'd ever wanted anything in her whole life.

At least, that's what it felt like…

"Ohhh, _Draco_…" she cooed when he took her nipple in his mouth. He fondled the other while he nipped and sucked at it for a few moments, then kissed his way down her stomach until he was at the button of her jeans.

"May I?" he asked, pulling at the button with two fingers.

"Please do…" she said quietly, hardly daring to believe what was happening. He unfastened her jeans with ease and soon they joined the rest of their clothes on the floor and she was left only in a black thong.

She felt totally and utterly exposed… and she surprisingly found that she liked it.

He looked down at her body appreciatively. A slight tan, just enough to give her color… surprisingly toned considering she wasn't that active of a person… perfect C-cup breasts that fit into his hands like they were made for them…

She was beautiful. And she was his.

At least for tonight.

Unable to wait any longer, he slipped a finger into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, as well, tossing them aside. Her center was totally hairless – magically, he assumed, knowing Hermione – and he could see she was already wet for him. He ran his hand up her leg gently before his middle finger came to rest lightly on her clit.

She moaned at the contact and he smirked, then started slowly stroking her, watching her reactions to see what she liked and loved, and then quickly thrust his finger inside her.

She yelled in pleasure, and Draco paused a moment. He grabbed his wand off the bedside table and pointed it at the door, muttering "_Silencio_" as he did so.

"Good idea… she murmured, but his finger was already back inside her and she could say no more. He started slow but quickly sped up and then added another finger, then another, until he had her positively screaming in pleasure. He then began rubbing her clit with his thumb while he thrust his fingers into her and he saw her hands dig into the bedcovers like claws. He felt her get tighter around him and he knew she was going to have an orgasm just from this. Latching on to this knowledge, he never slowed down and only got faster and harder, watching her squirm and listening to her moan until—

"Oh my _God_!" she screamed, as he felt her contracting around his fingers. "Yes, yes, yes, YES!"

"Is it good?" he growled.

"Yes!"

"Do you like it?"

"YES! Ohhh, God…" she moaned as she came down from the high. That had been one of the best orgasms of her life... and all he did was finger her…

She couldn't believe this was happening. She couldn't believe she was in bed with Draco Malfoy. She couldn't believe that he actually _wanted_ her…

She had to force herself to stop thinking that way. Just shut up and enjoy it, she told herself. It's not every day that—

"Ohhhhh…" she moaned, and her eyes closed in ecstasy. His mouth had found its way between her legs and he was licking and sucking at her and giving her sensations she'd _never_ felt before…

As soon as he tasted her, he knew he would have a hard time stopping. She was deliciously sweet with just a little bit of tang, and she was so wet that her juices coated his tongue repeatedly. He'd started slow but soon sped up, alternating between licking her and tongue-fucking her, until he finally fastened his lips around her clit and sucked while he thrust his finger inside her again.

"Ohhhh, _Fuck_ yes…" he heard her moan. Hmm, he'd never heard her use _that _word before… He added another finger and thrust harder and switched to licking.

"Fuck fuck _FUCK_!" she cried. "God, _yes_ Draco…" He smirked inwardly knowing that he could make goody-two-shoes Hermione Granger say such dirty words. He felt her tightening and suddenly became aware that she was going to come again.

His mouth combined with his fingers felt _amazing_. She couldn't believe the kinds of things he was making her feel. She was going to come – again, already – she just knew it. She felt it building and building, felt the pleasure increase exponentially, felt that tingling sensation from her fingers to her toes…

She yelled even louder this time.

Draco was loving every second of pleasuring her, and he adored feeling her come onto his tongue, but his arousal was becoming too persistent and painful to ignore. Once he'd let her ride out her second orgasm and lapped up the rest of her juices, he sat up in the bed and fumbled with his belt buckle.

"Here, let me," she said when she noticed, and sat up and knelt in front of him. She met his lips with hers and kissed him longingly while she unbuckled his belt, slid it out of the loops, and dropped it onto the floor with a _clank_. She moved down and kissed his neck and shoulders while she undid his slacks, then gave him a gentle nudge so he fell onto his back on the bed and she gingerly pulled them – and his silk boxers – off and onto the floor.

Now it was _her_ turn to dominate.

She knelt between his legs and bent over him, kissing all the way down his chest, his abs, his hips… until her mouth was finally resting just overtop of his cock. He was hard and ready, she knew – and _big_… - but she wanted to play, first…

He gasped when her breath danced over the tip of his cock. He wanted her mouth so fucking badly.

"God, Hermione, just suck it…" he groaned, and shuddered when he felt her tongue slip out and lightly brush him.

She smirked. So _needy_… She licked him once, twice, three times, before she slowly took an inch or two into her mouth, sucking gently. He moaned and she knew it was a combination of pleasure and impatience, so she slowly lowered herself down until he was almost all the way in.

"Mmmm, fuck yes, Hermione…" he moaned, and she started moving her mouth up and down slowly. His reactions only increased, so she got faster and faster, finding just the right combination of tongue and pressure until she felt him bucking beneath her.

She didn't want him coming – not yet – so she slowly brought her mouth to a stop, lifted herself up, and met his eyes.

"I want you inside me…" she growled, crawling upwards so her center was positioned just overtop of his cock. She kissed him deeply before he replied.

"God I want it too…"

"Then what are we waiting for?" she asked, smirking, and slowly but surely lowered herself down onto him.

She was so tight. Oh God, she was _so_ tight. She was _so fucking tight_. How was it even possible for someone to be so tight and wet and warm and…

"Oh, _fuck_..." he moaned, as she slid the rest of the way down onto him. He felt her contract her muscles around him, then she leaned down for another kiss. As she kissed him she started moving slowly up and down, up and down… and when she could take it no longer, she broke the kiss, sat up, and rode him hard.

Draco was absolutely speechless with pleasure. She looked fantastic bouncing on top of him, her mouth open as she moaned, her eyes closed in ecstasy… He'd never slept with anyone so exceedingly good at cowgirl, he almost didn't want her to stop…

"Oh, fuck, Draco! Oh God… Yes… Yes… YES… Ohhhhh, God!" she screamed, and he felt her coming again around him. While she was still going, he wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over to missionary position and thrust into her just as hard if not harder than she'd been riding him.

His timing was perfect. He kept her orgasm going, and just when she'd started to come down, he'd give a particularly deep thrust and it would come back again. Over and over he made her come while she watched him on top of her, while he kissed her, felt her, _knew_ her…

"Oh fuck, Hermione, God, I'm going to come…" he groaned. His last bit of energy went into his last few thrusts, harder and faster than the rest, until he felt himself explode, felt himself spilling inside of her…

He slowed to a stop, both of them panting, then leaned down and kissed her as he pulled out of her.

"That was… so amazing…" Hermione managed to say, turning her head to look at him.

"God yes, it was…" he replied.

"I'm so… so tired…" Hermione mumbled, her eyes slowly closing.

"Go to sleep, Hermione," he said gently, kissing her on the forehead.

"Mmm…" she moaned. Her breathing gradually slowed and eventually he knew she'd fallen asleep. He gingerly got out of the bed so he didn't wake her and threw on a pair of flannel pants. He began slowly pacing around his room.

_I just slept with my governess. I just slept with Hermione Granger. I just slept with Harry Potter's best friend._

Every new way he thought it just made it sound worse.

_I just slept with Hermione Granger… and it was absolutely amazing…_

Well… fuck.

He stopped his pacing and stared at her. She was already in a deep sleep.

She couldn't wake up in his bed. He'd have to move her. Sighing, he grabbed his wand off the bedside table again and slowly opened his bedroom door, looking all the way down the hallway to make sure Scorpius wasn't awake for some reason and that Dmitry and Davius weren't roaming about. Finding the coast clear, he pointed his wand at Hermione.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," he whispered, and she rose a few inches off the bed. Slowly, he guided her to the door and carefully out of it, then down the hallway. She never once stirred or opened her eyes, just slept on. Soon he had her lying on her own bed. But she was still naked…

He glanced around the room and saw her nightdress hanging on the desk chair. He grabbed it, then laid it next to her and transfigured it onto her body. Still, she didn't wake.

Having a sudden thought, he levitated her again about a foot off the bed and pulled the covers down to the footboard. He then gently lowered her, removed the charm, and carefully pulled the covers over top of her. She seemed to somehow be aware of this and squirmed beneath them, then turned over to her side, but never fully awoke. He stared at her for a moment, then saw the parchment on her desk.

He'd have to leave for a while. He couldn't face her tomorrow. Couldn't face _himself_ tomorrow. Not after that.

He used her quill to pen her a quick note, sealed it in an envelope, and laid it carefully on the pillow next to her. By the time she woke up in the morning he'd be far away and hopefully clearing his thoughts and conscience.

He looked at her one last time – she was still beautiful, even in sleep – before he walked quietly out of her room and closed the door gently behind him.


	6. Forever Hasn't Got Here Yet

Author's Note: There's really a lot more ANs then I planned on having in this… but… based on the kinds of reviews I got for chapter 5, I strongly suggest y'all go over and visit my blog page that I created for my fanfiction story readers at "**spicysugar368 **dot **tumblr** dot **com**." I wrote a post about it that will hopefully answer some questions.

* * *

Chapter 6

Forever Hasn't Got Here Yet

* * *

In those few brief moments of half-awareness when she first woke up, Hermione found that she for some reason felt extremely happy, comforted, and warm for the first time in years. Within the next few moments, her sleepy mind managed to piece together that this was the feeling that typically came after exceptionally good sex.

As soon as her mind realized just _who_ that sex had been with, and that it had indeed actually happened, her eyes snapped open.

Her breathing had immediately gotten heavier as she realized what had occurred the night before. Instantly fully alert, she sat up in bed and realized she was in her own room… and that she was alone.

_Had_ it really happened, then…?

Something caught her eye on the pillow next to her and she realized that it was a parchment envelope. She picked it up and saw that, of course, it had her name – just _Hermione_ – written neatly on the front of it.

She recognized that it was Draco's handwriting. Yes, then, it _definitely_ had happened…

Her stomach was fluttering uncontrollably and her heart was beating a mile a minute as she slit open the envelope, pulled out the parchment inside, and read:

_Hermione,_

_I have had to leave early this morning to travel again. I will mostly likely be gone at least a week… I have some affairs to take care of. You, of course, know what to do while I'm gone. Send Scorpius my regrets that I cannot be here for him after we gave him such a wonderful day yesterday. I hope you have found yourself comfortable this morning._

So he'd returned her to her room, then. She must have been sleeping pretty soundly if she didn't wake up for that. She looked back at the letter.

_On the subject of last night—_

Hermione stopped reading again, closed her eyes and braced herself for what he possibly might have said next, not even daring to hope that it might be anything good at all. After a few moments, she opened her eyes again and continued:

_On the subject of last night (and I'm sure I don't have to remind you what I'm talking about): though I assure you I thoroughly enjoyed myself, it never should have happened. I am truly sorry for making any advances on you. It was not fair to you or me. While I cannot say that I truly __regret__ it, I can assure you that it will never happen again. Please forgive me for committing such an atrocity against you. I hope that we can move past it and you will continue to stay at Malfoy Manor, but if not, I will understand. I just ask that you wait until my return before you take your leave so that Scorpius will be well looked after this week._

Hermione tried, and failed, to blink back the tears that were forming in her eyes. One, then another, fell down her cheeks, dripping onto the parchment. She felt stupid, she shouldn't be crying, it was just one night… Swallowing hard, she forced herself to continue reading:

_Please send me a return owl letting me know of your decision. I will make sure you are aware of when I will be returning and give you any specific instructions you might need._

_Yours,_

_Draco_

She sniffled._ Yours_, he'd said. Well, no, clearly he was, in fact, _not_ hers. Not that she'd ever even thought he was, of course… I mean, what could she possibly infer by last night? It was sex, plain and simple. It had been years since she'd had it and Draco sure seemed lonely so who knew who long it had been for him… pure animal instinct, that was all…

The tears started to flow faster when she remembered what he'd said in the parlor, just before he'd kissed her. _"I think you know you're more than just an employee to me…"_

Well, okay, then, Draco, what was she? A friend? Yes, they'd established that. But friends didn't have hot, passionate, amazing sex. If not a friend then what could he have meant? A sex parter? A fuck buddy?

She was kidding herself. Since he'd so clearly dismissed what had happened, it was easy to determine that she was by no means any kind of sex partner. Sex partners had sex at least on a somewhat regular basis. At least more than once.

No, she was none of that. She was simply a friend. A friendly _accident._

That was all.

If she was honest with herself she would admit that it had, indeed, been an accident. Hermione was not the type to sleep with superiors – Hermione wasn't the type to sleep with many people at all, really – and she certainly never would have thought she was the type to sleep with Draco Fucking _Malfoy_…

She tried to shake away the anger. She couldn't let those old feelings come back. They were dead, buried, and gone. She was friends with Draco, now. Truly, honestly, friends. They respected each other. And she most certainly could not deny the secret admiration she had been giving him, stealing glances when he wasn't paying notice to her and noticing just how _handsome_ he looked… And there had been that bit with the chocolate mousse…

_No, Hermione, no!_ she chided. _Just forget it. It never happened. It's gone. Last. Night. Never. Happened._

She was just beginning to grasp these thoughts when she heard a rapping at the French doors to the balcony. She looked up and noticed an owl and recognized it as Ron's, Jeremiah.

Curious…

What time was it anyway? She realized that she'd been so distressed over Draco's letter that she hadn't even minded the time… Scorpius might even be awake by now…

She glanced at the clock and saw that it was 7:45.

Well, she still had 15 minutes until breakfast…

She got up, opened the door, and let the owl in. He perched on her desk chair and, after she unfastened the letter, stood fast, staring at her.

"Go on," she said, motioning to the door.

He still stared.

"I don't have any owl treats, I'm sorry…" she apologized.

Still, he stared – and didn't even look miffed by the lack of treats.

Hermione stared back.

"You're waiting for a reply, aren't you?" she asked.

Jeremiah ruffled his feathers.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I don't have the time to reply now."

He clicked his beak at her.

"I have to go to breakfast!" she cried. "I'm on a bit if a tight schedule here… Now I'm sure Ron told you not to leave until I'd written a nice, lengthy letter back to him, because I can only _imagine_ that George told him I was here and this is a nice fat rant about how thick I'm being…"

Jeremiah hooted loudly and ruffled his feathers again.

"Look, I _will_ write him a reply. Later today. But I can't have an owl lazing about in my room all morning. I have plenty of owls here I can use to send a reply. I'm not in a wasteland."

Another beak-click.

"Seriously. The door is that way. He _will _get a reply. Just not right this very second." She pointed toward the still open door, letting in the light from a golden sunrise.

A final ruffle of feathers and the bird finally gave up, stretched it wings, and soared out the open door. She sighed and was just about to close it when, nearly out of nowhere, another owl took the liberty of flying right in.

"What in the world!" Hermione yelled, slamming the door shut and staring at the owl, who had resumed Jeremiah's post on the back of her desk chair.

Suddenly she realized it was Hephzibah, the snowy owl Harry had bought to replace Hedwig. Some days she felt like Hedwig's indignant nature lived on in Hephzibah. She, too, carried a letter.

"Of course," Hermione said. "_Of course_ as soon as Ron found out, he blabbed to Harry, and now he's ranting to me, as well. Just _wonderful_."

Hephzibah clicked her beak at her and Hermione could have sworn she saw her talons grip tighter to the chair when she took the letter. She put it on the desk with Ron's.

"No. You can leave just like Jeremiah did. I will not have owls in my room all day waiting for replies to completely uninformed and unjustified monologues about why I am here!"

Hephzibah gave a small hoot and her head dipped a little.

Hermione sighed. "Sorry, Hephzibah, but I've really had a _hell_ of a past 12 hours and this is really not a fantastic addition to my already terrible morning…"

Hephzibah hooted again, flew off the chair, and landed on Hermione's shoulder. She began nipping at her hair and Hermione realized she was grooming her – owl-speak for affection. It seemed silly to be touched by the actions of an animal, but she was.

Perhaps Hephzibah wasn't as indignantly stubborn as Hermione thought.

"I guess woman's intuition isn't just for humans, huh?" Hermione asked, and she held out her arm. Hephzibah, taking the cue, hopped down until she was sitting on her forearm and staring at Hermione.

She hooted quietly.

"No, Hephzibah, I'm sorry. I just can't reply right now."

Another hoot.

"I have plenty of owls here I can use later. I promise. I'm sure Harry's _very_ upset, but right now, so am I. You can send along my regrets. You'll be seeing another owl later this evening, one from here, with my reply. All right?"

Another quiet hoot.

"Okay to go now?" Hermione asked, opening the door.

Hephzibah ruffled her feathers before stretching out her wings and soaring gracefully out of the door into the rising sun.

Hermione heaved a deep sigh, then heard a small voice coming from the door.

"Hermione, who were you talking to? Is Father here?"

She turned and saw Scorpius peeking in her door. She should have scolded him for opening the door and looking in without knocking but right now she just didn't have the energy.

"Good morning Scorpius. I'm sorry, I'm running a little behind this morning… you can come in, it's all right."

He smiled and scooted in the doorway, walking up to her and wrapping his arms around her legs in a hug. She smiled and picked him up, letting his weight rest on her hip.

"So who _were_ you talking to?" Scorpius asked.

"I was having an argument with two owls that decided to pay me a visit this morning," Hermione explained.

"Owls? Father's owls?" Scorpius asked. She chuckled.

"No, dear. Owls that belong to my friends. They've written me some letters that I have to reply to later today."

"Oh!" Scorpius said, suddenly understanding. "Are they _important_ letters?"

"Only one of them," she answered. And that one wasn't delivered by an owl, she added mentally.

"Ooooh!" gushed Scorpius. "What's it say?"

"It was from your father, actually," she replied, and Scorpius's eyes lit up. "Unfortunately, it's not really good news," she finished. Scorpius frowned.

"Why?"

"Your father is travelling again. He told me to tell you he says he's sorry that he can't be here for you today. He said he had a lot of fun yesterday and hopes you did too, and that he can't wait to see you again when he gets home." She was fluffing it a little, but Scorpius wouldn't know the difference.

Scorpius pouted. "When will he be home? Where did he go?"

"I'm not sure where he went, dear, but he says he should be home in about a week. However!" she continued, and put him down on the floor. "He said that I am to be _extra_ diligent with your studies while he's gone! So why don't you run along down to the dining room for breakfast and I'll be there as _soon_ as I write your father a reply letter, all right?"

"But I want to wait for you!" he protested.

"I'd like that, but you know how fussy Dmitry and Davius get if there isn't _someone_ at the table right at eight o'clock!"

Scorpius's eyes widened. "Oh, right!" He dashed out of the room quicker than he'd come. Hermione sighed and turned back to the desk, where there was a quill, ink, and several pieces of parchment, and sat down in the chair. She thought for a moment, then picked up the quill, dipped it, and began writing:

_Draco,_

_Scorpius is just as bright eyed and smiley this morning at always. He is disappointed that you will not be home for a while, but I'm sure he will be just fine._

_Regarding the subject of your last letter: it would be positively cowardly of me to leave simply because of the mistake that happened last night._

She hesitated, not really wanting to call it a "mistake," but she couldn't find another word for it. Besides, all it really had been was a mistake…

_I am perfectly content to remain governess of Malfoy Manor for as long as you should require my services. I, too, am sure that we can easily move on and continue our lives as normal._

She hesitated before she signed it, then decided that he had used the word so why couldn't she?

_Yours,_

_Hermione_

She found an envelope in one of the desk drawers, folded the letter carefully, put it inside, and sealed it. She then quickly got dressed and took the letter up to the attic, where she selected the healthiest looking owl (since she didn't know just how far it had to travel), affixed the letter to its leg, and sent it off through the window with instructions to deliver it straight to Draco and no one else. Though the letter hadn't specifically mentioned what had happened, it wasn't exactly that cryptic, and any average person could figure out what it meant. The last thing Draco needed was for it to be a widely spread rumor that he was sleeping with his governess.

She sighed once the owl was out of sight and then made her way down to the dining room for breakfast.

* * *

She and Scorpius had begun their lessons immediately after eating and so it was only now at one thirty, after they'd had lunch and Hermione had sent Scorpius off into the west yard (which she had a view of from her balcony) to play, that she was finally able to sit down and read Harry and Ron's letters.

She decided to read Ron's first, figuring his would be worse. It didn't even start out with her name as a salutation, just went right into the thick of it:

_HOW IN THE WORLD ARE YOU THE GOVERNESS TO DRACO MALFOY! What the HELL, Hermione? What are you THINKING? Who KNOWS what he could do to you! How long have you been there? Why didn't you TELL me! I would never in a million YEARS have expected this of you! You HATE Malfoy, remember? He's the slimy git you slapped in the face and resented for seven years of your life? The one who called you every name in the BOOK? HOW ARE YOU THE GOVERNESS FOR HIS SON! I'm inclined to think he's got you under a damn IMPERIUS curse or something! Please, dear Merlin, just write me back so I at least know you're ALIVE, even… and I wouldn't mind a damn explanation, either!_

_-Ron, you're extremely exasperated and confused best friend!_

Hermione sighed. She supposed she shouldn't have expected any less from Ron. She was honestly surprised it hadn't been worse. Knowing there was no possible way to make Ron feel any better about her situation, no matter what she said, she buckled down and wrote it to him as concisely as possible:

_Ron,_

_As you know, I returned to my parents' home and returned their memories to them after we finished the war. It was a long and painful process for both of them, but especially for my father. I informed you of his death immediately after it happened, so you know that I had to continue to stay with my poor mother in her grief._

_As my mother got in better health, I began to look for a good-paying job in the Ministry. As I'm sure you have discovered, finding a job for someone who has not finished all seven years of wizarding education is exceedingly difficult. I have told you of all of these struggles already._

_I was in desperate straits by the time I discovered Draco's ad in the Daily Prophet seeking a governess for his five-(now six)-year-old son. I sent him a letter of application solely because I felt I had no other options and nothing to lose. I and my mother both were extremely shocked when he sent me back a letter approving my application and saying that he was willing to offer me the job, and with a handsome paycheck. How could I do anything but accept?_

_I have been here over two months, now, Ron, and I am extremely happy. I know you won't believe that for anything, but I really am. Draco and I are even what I would consider friends now and his son is wonderful to look after. He's very bright and talented and will make a great wizard some day, and I feel privileged that I get to be the one to teach him in his early years._

_I did not immediately let you and Harry know about this situation because I knew you would react this exact way about it unless I brought it up gingerly. I can only assume that you found out that I am here because of George, who saw us together in Hogsmeade buying presents for Draco's son. I really can't believe I didn't remember to tell him to keep it quiet, but then again, he probably wouldn't have anyway._

_I do hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you, and hope that someday you can accept the fact that I am here to stay and that it is a good position for me. Perhaps, at some point, Draco would even be willing to let you pay me a visit here at the Manor. If not, we can always arrange to meet for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade if you like._

_Always yours,_

_Hermione_

She read it over a few more times but decided that there was really no better way to say anything she had said and sealed Ron's letter in an envelope. Now, to Harry's… she opened it and was immediately grateful for the lack of a magnitude of capital letters that had graced Ron's parchment.

_Hermione,_

_Ron has just been over to tell me that George informed him you are the governess of Malfoy Manor. I didn't believe him at first, but he insisted that George had talked to you himself and that he had the information straight from you, so I had no choice but to accept it._

_However, just to placate the small string of doubt in my mind… Are you really, Hermione? Did Hephzibah deliver this letter to you at Malfoy Manor? Are you truly governess for his son? All I can think is… why?_

_I know that the ministry granted him and his mother a lot of forgiveness after the truth of everything came out after the war. No doubt there was some money involved there, too. I know that the past is past and that our juvenile trials with him in school hardly matter now. But that doesn't change the fact that none of us ever truly liked him in the first place, and that he's not really that great of a person, and he never spoke a word to any of us after the war._

_So, why in the world… how in the world… did you end up his governess? Are you all right? Is everything okay? Does someone need to come and rescue you? If I don't hear back from you within a few days I may have to send a search party out for you. I'm just worried, Hermione. It's very troublesome that you never even bothered to tell anyone close to you. None of us knew about this. Why would you hide it? Did you think we would try to keep you from going? I can't speak for Ron, but I know that ultimately I would have let you make your own decisions…_

_Please just write me back. All I want is some answers. I won't badger you about it (like I'm sure Ron did), I promise._

_-Harry_

Hermione was glad she had gotten Ron's out of the way first. Harry's letter really softened the blow. She knew they both cared about her and were just worried, but Ron possessed far less tact than Harry and so his words were far harsher.

She wrote Harry a reply similar to what she had written Ron, though she thanked him for his concern and gentle words. Like Ron's, she ended it with a petition for them to meet up and see each other soon. Satisfied with both letters, she sealed them both and glanced out the French doors to check on Scorpius. He was chasing a rabbit again. She made a mental note to check on him in a minute, then made her way up to the attic again to send off her two letters to the two men who mattered most in her life.

At least, she had _thought_ they were the two men that mattered most… Her stomach fluttered as she remembered the previous night and she allowed herself a half smile before returning her focus back to her trek to the attic.

An accident. That's all it was, just an accident. A mistake. Nothing more. And that was that.


	7. He Ain't Worth Missing

**Author's Note:** Don't forget about my blog! (See web location in last chapter's AN and in my profile.) You don't have to be a member of tumblr to view it or to ask questions, so head on over and ask away!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_He Ain't Worth Missing_

* * *

The morning that Draco had left her the letter on her pillow had been a Tuesday. It had now been over a week since she had sent him her reply, and she hadn't heard anything from him at all. She and Scorpius both were beginning to be affected by his absence, as this was the longest he'd ever been gone at one time. Dmitry and Davius were still as smiling as they ever were but even their cheer was lost on Scorpius.

"Now, how would you say, 'Hello, Miss, how are you today?" she was asking him.

"_Bonjour, mademoiselle, comment allez-vous, aujourd'hui?"_ he recited. She really couldn't be any prouder of him for how quickly he was picking up French.

"And how would you say it if you were speaking to a friend, like me?"

"_Bonjour, mademoiselle, comment ça va aujourd'hui?"_

"That's very good, Scorpius. You're learning so quickly!" she said, smiling at him. He sighed.

"I miss Father," he said, frowning. Hermione looked at him sadly.

"I miss him, too," she replied.

"It's Wednesday. He's been gone since last Tuesday. He hasn't even sent me a letter," he pouted.

"I know, Scorpius. He hasn't sent me one, either. Don't worry, he'll be home soon." At least, she certainly hoped he'd be home soon.

Scorpius sighed.

"Do we have to keep learning French today?"

Hermione checked her watch. It was 11:15.

"No, dear. It's late enough, we're both sad. I think we should stop for the day."

They were sitting on the floor, where they normally were in the schoolroom. Scorpius stared at her for a moment, then scooted up next to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his head into her shoulder. She put a comforting arm around him and then heard him sniffle and realized he was crying.

"Oh, Scorpius, don't cry…"

"Why hasn't he written! Why isn't he home!" Scorpius demanded into her shirt.

She hugged him tighter. "I don't know, dear, I really don't. But I know he'll be home soon and that he misses you very much."

Scorpius just sniffled and hiccupped in reply. It was all Hermione could do to not be angry at Draco for this. He had grown so close to his son, had given him such an amazing birthday, was becoming a fantastic father… and then he had suddenly gone away for longer than he ever had before and stopped all contact. She tried to assure herself that he surely must have a good reason, that he wasn't intentionally leaving them in the dark, and she was just starting to believe what she was telling herself when she heard a tapping at the window. Scorpius heard it, too, and looked up. His eyes were red and puffy from crying and it broke Hermione's heart to see it, but she turned her attention to the window.

There was an owl there.

Scorpius sniffled, then said, "Who's it from? I've never seen that owl."

"Neither have I," said Hermione. "Here, you sit tight and I'll see what it is." She shifted her weight as Scorpius let go of her, then she stood to her feet and opened the window. As soon as she took the letter from the owl, it flew away. Looking down at the envelope, she saw her name written there. _Hermione._

"What is it?" demanded Scorpius. He was hugging his knees to his chest, still sitting on the floor and staring at Hermione.

"Unless I'm mistaking the handwriting, I do believe it's from your father…" Hermione said, opening it. Scorpius, upon hearing this, jumped to his feet and raced over to her.

"What's it say? What's it say?"

"Hang on, give me a moment," she said, and then began to read the letter out loud:

"_Hermione,_

_I am dearly sorry it has taken me so long to write you. I have been making arrangements my whole time away. Please tell Scorpius that I miss him and cannot wait to see him when I get home, and that I have a wonderful surprise for him."_

She paused and looked at Scorpius. He looked puzzled but excited. "A surprise? For me?" he asked.

"That's what he said," Hermione affirmed, smiling, and continued reading:

"_I will be returning to the Manor around midday tomorrow—"_

"Tomorrow!" Scorpius exclaimed. "He's coming home tomorrow!"

Hermione thought his smile couldn't get any wider. She kept on:

"—_and I will be bringing an honored guest with me. I have enclosed the key to my Gringotts vault, number 617. Please take as much as you need out of it to buy Scorpius and yourself nice suits to wear tomorrow to welcome me and my guest. Note that I will be displeased if you spend anything less than 50 galleons on yours. You deserve the best, Hermione, and so you should wear the best you can find. Consider it a personal bonus from me."_

"Fifty galleons on a _suit_?" Scorpius cried. Hermione smiled.

"Some of your clothes probably cost that much, you know," said Hermione, smiling. "Your father dresses himself and you very well. Now I'm still not done yet."

"_Please tell Dmitry and Davius to prepare a dinner tomorrow that would impress even the Minister of Magic himself. I expect it to be so delicious that Scorpius won't even be able to resist the vegetables."_

Scorpius scowled at this. Hermione laughed

"_Lastly, I am sure my guest will want to hear the kinds of things Scorpius has been learning. Have him practice up on his French, especially, so he can show off just how bright he is tomorrow."_

Hermione found this a little odd, and apparently, so did Scorpius.

"Father normally shoos me away when important people are over," Scorpius noted. "Do you think that he thinks I'm a grown up now?" Scorpius asked hopefully. Hermione laughed.

"Perhaps he does, dear! After all, it certainly is a mark of growing up when you start to learn as quickly and as well as you do," Hermione assured him. Scorpius beamed in reply. Hermione finished the last of the letter.

"_I eagerly await my return to the manor tomorrow. _

_All my best to you and Scorpius, _

_Draco."_

"Well Scorpius, guess what!" she said.

"What?"

"It looks like we have to go shopping!"

He groaned.

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun. Just think that it's all to impress your father when he comes home tomorrow!"

"But I hate shopping…"

"You loved it when we took you to Hogsmeade!"

"Yeah but that was different!" Scorpius protested.

"Because we were buying things _you_ wanted?" Hermione pressed.

"Well… yeah…" he admitted.

"Well, Scorpius," Hermione started, "if you don't come with me today, then I guess I'll just have to let your grandmamma look after you for the day…"

His countenance change was immediate.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go shopping!" he exclaimed, dragging Hermione out of the room still holding the envelope and letter.

"Hold on dear, just a second," Hermione said, as she folded up the letter and put it back in the envelope where Draco's Gringotts key resided. "All right, _now_ we can go!" she said, and led him by the hand out the front door.

* * *

Half an hour later they were strolling out of Gringotts into Diagon Alley, Hermione's bag heavy with the galleons she had taken from Draco's vault. The goblins had been suspicious of her at first but after a few truth tests and seeing the letter from Draco they decided that she was, indeed, actually his governess, and had led her to the vault with no issue.

"So, whose do you want to buy first, yours or mine?" she asked Scorpius.

"Hmmmm. Which will take longer?" he asked.

"Probably mine," she admitted.

"Then we'll do that one first," he decided.

"Sounds good to me," Hermione replied, and led him to a higher-class clothing store on the northern end of Diagon Alley. Just before they walked in the door, Hermione stopped. "Now, Scorpius, this is a place where very important people shop."

"So?" he asked.

"So, I'm going to need you to be on your very best behavior, all right? Can you promise me that?"

"I always behave well!" he protested.

She smiled. "Of course, how silly of me," she conceded, though she could recall several times he'd caused quite a bit of mischief. "Then you should have no problem being perfectly polite, right?"

"Yup!" he answered, beaming.

"Good. Now, let's see if we can brave the aristocracy…" she said to herself, and stepped in front of the door to find it opened for her automatically. She led Scorpius inside by the hand and they were immediately greeted by a chic-looking red-headed woman dressed in a snappy moss-colored skirt suit with black pumps that had heels that could probably pierce the skin of a dragon. Her hair was loosely curled and held back from her face with a clip that Hermione would bet all the galleons she had was embedded with diamonds. Well, Draco had said she deserved the best…

"Hello!" said the woman warmly. "My name is Clarice. What can I help you find, today?"

Of course, Hermione thought. A personal shopping assistant. She should have known. Knowing it would do no good to try to get rid of her, she replied with "We have an honored guest coming to our home tomorrow and we were hoping to find new suits for both of us for the occasion."

"Oh, how _lovely_!" she simpered. "And this is your son?" she asked, motioning to Scorpius. Hermione smiled.

"No, ma'am, I'm only his governess. My employer, his father, is away and sent us out today to buy what we needed."

"How precious," she replied, though she could tell she wasn't happy about having to assist a governess in her shop. Clarice knelt down – Hermione didn't know how she did it in those shoes – and spoke to Scorpius.

"And how old are you, handsome?" she asked him, beaming at him.

"I just turned six years old last week!" he said, exploding with pride over that accomplishment.

"Well isn't that wonderful! And what's your name?" she continued.

"Scorpius Draco Malfoy," he recited dutifully, standing up a little straighter. Clarice's expression changed immediately.

"Malfoy, you say?" she asked, standing up straight and looking back at Hermione.

"Miss, do you happen to be governess to _Draco_ Malfoy?" she asked. Hermione wasn't quite sure where this was going, but answered anyway.

"Yes, ma'am. I've been Scorpius's governess for almost three months now."

"And you say Mr. Malfoy himself personally sent you here on this errand?" Clarice seemed nervous, Hermione noticed.

"Yes, ma'am, he did. We just got his owl this morning."

"Well _goodness_ why didn't you _say_ so!" she exclaimed. "We will simply have to get you the _very_ best we have here, for both of you! Come along, come with me…"

Hermione was floored. She knew Draco was important, as the wizarding world went, but she hadn't realized he was quite _that_ important…

"Did you have anything in particular you were looking for, miss?" Clarice called over her shoulder as she led her to the ladies' section.

"Honestly, no, ma'am. I trust you to lead me in the right direction," Hermione said. Clarice seemed thrilled that someone who worked for Draco Malfoy would put so much trust in her lowly opinion.

Hermione sighed. It was going to be a long day…

* * *

Hermione and Scorpius woke early the following day. Scorpius was simply excited beyond measure to see his father again, but Hermione was nervous about their "honored guest." She had no idea who it could be and was afraid that it would be someone so important that she would get nervous and somehow mess something up for Draco…

Instead of doing arithmetic, grammar, and potions theory that morning, they spent the whole time on French. Draco had said that he wanted Scorpius to impress their guest, and Hermione was going to make sure that happened.

"So when our guest comes in the door and addresses you, you'll say…"

"_Bonjour, comment allez-vous, aujourd'hui?"_

"And if they ask your name?"

"_Je m'appelle Scorpius Draco Malfoy."_

"And if they ask how _you_ are doing?"

"_Je vais bien – _but Hermione, what if I'm not doing well? What if I'm doing awful?"

"Then you will still say _je vais bien_. It's not polite to admit to your guest that you are anything less than well," she chided. "Do you still remember the alphabet?"

He recited it.

"Wonderful! Now, let's see how high you can count… we've learned all the way up to fifty… first count to ten for me…"

"_Un, deux, trios, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix."_

"Eleven to twenty?"

"_Onze, douze, treize, quatorze, quinze, seize, dix-sept, dix-huit, dix-neuf, vingt."_

"Excellent. And what's thirty?"

"_Trente."_

"Forty?"

"_Quarante."_

"And fifty?"

"_Cinquante."_

"Fantastic, Scorpius! You're doing wonderfully." He beamed. "Now let's practice our colors…"

() () ()

At ten o'clock, Hermione decided it was time to stop and get ready. Draco had said he would be arriving "around midday" and that could mean anywhere from eleven to one. She left Scorpius in his room practicing reading _Les Contes de Beedle le Barde_ while she got dressed.

She had eventually left the shop carrying two suits – the woman had insisted on giving her the second for free and Hermione simply didn't know how to refuse. The free one was a light sage green blazer with black pants and, Hermione decided, far too casual for the occasion. The one she had ended up buying was a beautiful, deep sapphire blue, silk skirt-suit. The bottom of the skirt and the edges of the long-sleeved blazer were trimmed with silver and crushed crystal. She had gotten a silvery short-sleeved blouse to wear underneath it and high-heeled, silver peep-toe shoes. She'd had them on for hours the night before to practice walking in them and make sure that she wouldn't fall over. Pantyhose, though she abhorred them, completed the ensemble from the neck down.

From there she stepped into the bathroom and thought for a few moments on how to style her hair. It hung in its usual waves at the moment, and she decided that the more governess-like she looked, the better, so she magicked it up into a loose French twist, but left a few pieces hanging down, which she curled around her wand into ringlets. She applied a little makeup – powder first, then a light blush and a dab of silver eyeshadow, with black eyeliner and mascara to complete it. As an afterthought, she added lipstick that was just slightly darker than her lips.

As she was staring into the mirror, she realized something was missing and realized that it was jewelry. She dug around in the bathroom drawers for a while until she found what she was looking for – a platinum and diamond pendant with matching earrings that her maternal grandmother had left her in her will. They were antiques, she knew, and one of the only valuable things her grandmother had had to her name. She rarely ever wore them, but she thought today was an appropriate occasion, and so carefully fastened the necklace on and put the earrings in. Taking a deep, calming breath, she stepped away from the vanity mirror and surveyed herself in the full-length mirror by the door.

She felt so egotistical for thinking it, but the first thought that popped into her head had been _"Wow."_

The suit had looked excellent in the store when she'd tried it on, but today, it looked _exquisite. _It accentuated curves she didn't even know she had, made her waist look even smaller than the size four that it was, and elongated her legs so much that Hermione was having trouble believing she was still only 167cm tall. The shoes helped with this, adding at least another 5cm to her height. Her hair and makeup were perfect, and the jewelry sparkled in the light of the bathroom. She almost didn't want to admit it to herself, but she looked _damn_ good.

It really irritated her that her next thought was that Draco would _surely_ be impressed, and not just in the professional way.

Shaking the thought away, she checked her watch. 10:30. Time to get Scorpius ready.

She arrived at his room and knocked lightly on the door before opening it. He was right where she left him, reading the French storybook quietly aloud to himself. He looked up when he heard her come in and he let out a little gasp.

"What is it, Scorpius?" she asked.

"You're _beautiful!_" he exclaimed. Hermione blushed. Was it odd to blush from the compliment of a six-year-old?

"Thank you Scorpius. It's time to make you look more handsome than your father has _ever_ seen you!"

He groaned. "I hate wearing suits…"

"I know, but it's for your father, and you want to make him happy, don't you?" she prodded.

"Yes…"

"Well, then, let's get to work," she said, taking the suit from where it was hanging on his closet door.

It took a few minutes, but eventually Scorpius was fully dressed. His suit was navy like Hermione's but, of course, lacked the crushed crystal edges. He wore a white shirt and silver vest beneath it with a silver bow-tie.

"Do I _have_ to wear the tie?" he whined, fussing with it.

"Yes, Scorpius, you must. It makes you look so incredibly handsome!"

He grumbled, but stopped pulling at it.

"Will you let me do something with your hair?" she asked.

"Fine…"

She smiled, then led him into the bathroom where she let him watch while she slicked it back like Draco had done himself when he was younger. It made Scorpius look all the more dashing.

"It looks funny," he said.

"It looks _good_," she assured him. The bathroom they were in faced the front of the manor and when she looked out she noticed Draco and his guest walking toward the front door. His guest, apparently, was a woman.

"Scorpius, they're here!" she said, her stomach suddenly doing somersaults. Scorpius gasped and hopped down from the vanity where he'd been sitting, dashing out of the room.

"Scorpius!" she called. "Don't run in the house! Wait for me!" She went after him at a slight jog – unable to do anything more in the blasted high-heeled shoes – and arrived at the front door only moments before Scorpius tried to open it.

"_No_, Scorpius," she said sternly, and he turned around and saw her.

"Why can't I open it?" he pleaded.

"Come stand here with me," she said, motioning to where she stood – similar to the very spot Draco had been when she'd first arrived at the Manor. "Your father will let himself in."

Scorpius pouted. "Okay…"

"Remember to smile, dear," she reminded him. "It's not polite to frown."

He pasted on a smile as they heard the door unlatching. Hermione put a hand on Scorpius's shoulder (to prevent him from running up to his father as soon as he walked in) just before the door opened, revealing Draco and the woman he had brought with him.

She stepped into the foyer behind him, looking around appreciatively but a bit aloof and came to stand next to him. She was, quite possibly, the most beautiful woman Hermione had ever seen in her life. She stood taller than Hermione even with her heels on, she had a gorgeous, toned figure that was clad in a gorgeous red cocktail dress that hugged her tightly and had tulle flowers on the sleeves, and her hair was nearly as blonde as Draco's and curled elaborately into a 40's-style. She was absolutely flawless.

Draco looked over at the woman.

"I'm so happy to have you here. This is my governess, Hermione," he began.

"Pleased to meet you," she said, bowing a little.

"…and my son, Scorpius."

"_Enchantée,"_ he said, and Hermione beamed inwardly with pride that he'd remembered that.

"Draco!" the woman cried. Her voice was delicate and smooth. "You did not tell me he spoke _français_…" Hermione detected a slight French accent and realized that the woman was French. No wonder Draco had wanted her to focus on Scorpius's French lessons…

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he smiled. He looked at Hermione. "Hermione, Scorpius, this is _ma petite amie_, Michelle."

Hermione's smile froze and her entire body tensed. She felt her stomach disappear.

That was a French term. And she knew exactly what it meant.

This wasn't an ordinary guest.

_Petite amie_, in French, translated to _girlfriend._


	8. Wish I Didn't Know Now

**Author's Note**: Thanks so much to those of you utilizing the tumblr! It's really a wonderful tool and I think I will continue to utilize it for future stories. :) Thanks to simplee-ally for asking about outfits and characters... check it out to see photos of some of the outfits from the story!

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_Wish I Didn't Know Now_

* * *

_Ma petite amie._ Girlfriend. Draco had a girlfriend. That's where he'd been going. That's why he never told her and Scorpius his whereabouts. He clearly had been seeing her for a long time and now thought that they were serious enough that he could bring her home to the family, to see how she did with Scorpius…

Draco had a girlfriend, a _serious_ girlfriend, and he'd slept with Hermione a little over a week ago…

She suddenly felt sick to her stomach. No wonder he'd left her alone. He'd gone away to Michelle, to forget about her. By the warm smile Michelle was giving her, Hermione was sure he hadn't admitted a word of what he'd done, either.

Draco had a girlfriend.

Probably one he eventually was thinking of marrying.

And he'd cheated on the beautiful woman before her… with herself, Hermione Granger.

The friendly accident.

_This is ma petite amie, Michelle…_

In the few moments that those words were still sinking in, Scorpius looked up at Hermione and gave her a questioning glance.

"Hermione, what's… '_petite amie_'… mean?" he asked. "You haven't taught me that."

Hermione took a calming breath.

"_Petite amie_ is a French term meaning 'lady friend,'" she explained. "Michelle is someone your father is… seeing romantically," she said, not able to find another way to delicately explain it. Scorpius's eyes widened.

"Father!" he said, looking back at him. "You have a _girlfriend_?"

Draco smiled. "Yes, Scorpius, I do. We have been seeing each other for over a year now and I thought it was about time you got to meet her."

Hermione tried to keep her facial expression the same, but her mind was going crazy.

_Over a year? A YEAR? He took the chance of ruining a year long relationship of the woman he wants to marry by having sex with ME?_

"I have been hearing so much about you!" Michelle said, looking at Scorpius. "I have wanted to meet you for so long. I am so happy that I finally can."

Scorpius smiled at feeling so important.

"Herimone," Draco said, and she realized it was the first time he'd spoken directly to her.

"Yes, sir?" she replied. She noticed a flicker in Draco's eyes when she addressed him thus, as she never had before, but Hermione was eager to put up some boundary walls between them now that Michelle was in the picture.

"Could you please have Dmitry and Davius whip up some cappuccinos for us? And a hot chocolate for Scorpius? Meet us in the parlor after you've talked to them so we can all get to know each other a little better," he requested. He was positively beaming. He was so happy, so thrilled, to have brought Michelle home with him after waiting for so long… Hermione's stomach felt still sicker and she wondered how on earth she was going to swallow down a sweet coffee… but she made her way into the dining room anyway as Draco led Scorpius and Michelle to the parlor.

"Dmitry!" she called. It took a moment, but he appeared in front of her, wearing a white chef's coat that was sporting a lovely red stain right in the center of it – fresh, by the looks of it.

"I do apologize madam!" said Dmitry, smiling as wide as ever and brushing the stain with a white napkin. "You called just as I was pouring some wine and startled me… Davius and I have been working on the master's Minister-Quality dinner since seven this morning!" he announced proudly.

"That's wonderful," Hermione said, and suddenly felt guilty that she was about to ask him to do something else. "When you get a spare moment, though…" she started, giving him an apologetic glance, "could you please make three cappuccinos and one hot chocolate and bring them to the parlor?"

"Absolutely, madam, no problem at all!" Dmitry said enthusiastically. "I will send Davius along. He is much more fit for the public eye right now than I…" he finished, motioning to his stained jacket.

"Wonderful," Hermione said again. "Thank you so much."

"_C'est mon plaisir, madame!_" he replied with a smile, and disappeared.

Since Hermione was alone, she took a very long and deep breath, fortifying her mental walls as she went, and then gracefully walked into the parlor where Draco was standing by watching Michelle talk to Scorpius.

"And what have you learned so far with your governess?" she was asking.

"Lots of stuff!" Scorpius eagerly replied. "She teaches me all about potions and grammar and math and French and all kinds of things!"

"And what's your favorite?" Hermione asked as she came into the room and sat down next to him on the little couch. Draco and Michelle were across the coffee table from them in matching wingback armchairs.

Scorpius smiled up at her. "French of course!" he answered.

"Why don't you and Hermione show Michelle some of the things you've learned in French?" Draco asked, glancing at Hermione.

Hermione tried very desperately not to think about the last time those silver eyes had been staring into hers.

"Hmm, what do you want to do first, Scorpius?" Hermione asked him.

"I can say the whole alphabet!" he declared. "And I can count all the way to fifty!"

Michelle nodded in approval, smiling gently.

"And what have we just learned last week?" Hermione reminded him.

"Oh, right! Colors! I know colors now!"

"Do you want to show Michelle how many colors you know?" Hermione asked. Scorpius nodded.

"Hmm," Hermione began. "_Quelle couleur est… mes cheveux?"_ she asked, motition to her hair.

"_Brun_," he answered.

"_Quelle couleur est… tes yeux?"_ she continued, pointing to his eyes.

"_Gris_!" he answered.

"_Quelle couleur est la robe de Michelle?"_ She pointed to Michelle.

"_Rouge_."

"_Quelle couleur est tes pantalons?"_ She motioned to his suit pants.

"_Bleu_."

"_Quelle couleur est la chaise?"_ The chair Draco was sitting on, this time.

"_Vert_."

"_Fantastique!_" cried Michelle. "You have learned so much at such a young age!"

"_Merci, mademoiselle,_" he answered, beaming. Hermione was absolutely swelling with pride. She had expected him to falter under the pressure but he was doing just as well for Draco and Michelle as he had for herself in their private lessons.

Suddenly, Davius appeared in the room and Michelle nearly jumped out of her skin.

Hermione smirked to herself.

"Sorry m'lady!" Davius said, bowing slightly to her. "I did not mean to scare. You called for cappuccinos, sir?" he asked, addressing Draco.

"I did, thank you," Draco said as Davius placed the tray of steaming drinks on the coffee table.

"The red mug is the hot chocolate for you, young master," Davius said to Scorpius. The cappuccinos were all in their traditional glass Irish coffee mugs, so Scorpius's stood out quite plainly.

"Thanks!" he said, and took it from the tray. The rest of them did the same.

"Should you require anything else, sir, just call!" said Davius, and he disappeared. Michelle was looking uneasily at the spot where he'd just stood.

"What on earth…"

"Imagine if a house elf, a butler, and a bar of gold were all cooked in a pot together. Dmitry and Davius are what you get," Draco explained. "They're called Orhommes."

"There are _two_ of them?" Michelle asked incredulously.

"Yes, though I'm not sure which that one was," Draco admitted.

"It was Davius," Hermione answered. Draco looked at her questioningly. "I called Dmitry for them but he said he was busy with dinner, so he said he'd send Davius with the coffee."

"Did he happen to mention what he was cooking?" Draco asked.

"Unfortunately no," Hermione admitted. "All I know is that it has something to do with red wine."

"Ah, _le vin rouge_ is my favorite," Michelle gushed. "Is it _coq-au-vin , _perhaps?" she asked Hermione.

"I wish I knew, but that's all the information I have," Hermione said. "That's probably a good guess though. They love French cuisine."

As the conversational focus shifted away from her, Hermione found her mind and eyes wandering. Eventually they both landed on the bookshelf just across the room from her.

The bookshelf that, just ten days previously, she and Draco had stood in front of, and he'd kissed her so tenderly, so gently…

Had he known, then, that just a little over a week later he and Hermione would be back in this room and joined by his long-term girlfriend? Did he know what he was doing?

Did he even care?

* * *

Dinner, as it turned out, actually was _coq-au-vin_. It passed without much monumental event – besides Scorpius, indeed, finishing all of his broccoli without even being told to. After dinner, Draco invited Michelle to spend Scorpius's reading time with him and to read the French storybook they'd gotten him for his birthday. Michelle seemed positively delighted at the opportunity and she and Scorpius soon retired to his room, leaving Draco and Hermione alone.

Precisely what she did _not_ want.

"I think I'm going to head to my room for the evening and read a while…" she said, standing up from the table and heading for the parlor to retrieve the book she'd left there earlier in the day.

"Hermione, wait," Draco said, following after her. He caught up to her at the bookshelf – the same blasted bookshelf by the window.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, trying to be as sweet as possible. She was many things – angry, confused, upset – but she didn't want Draco to see that weakness.

"For God's sake, stop calling me 'sir,' it's odd," he said. "I've always told you to call me Draco."

"Yes, but Michelle wasn't here, then…" she said quietly, not meeting his gaze.

"Hermione…"

"Yes?" she asked, still not looking at him. He put a hand gently under her chin and brought her gaze up to meet his.

"You look absolutely stunning, today."

"Thank you," she said stiffly, trying not to show how the compliment made her all warm and fuzzy inside… "Michelle looks absolutely wonderful."

He was silent for a moment.

"She is quite beautiful. Comes from her French blood," he admitted.

"Yes. I can see why you're with her," she said, trying to keep herself together.

_It was one fucking night, Hermione. One. Blasted. Night. It meant nothing to him, and nothing to you. It was an accident. A mistake. And you need to stop being a little school girl, grow up, and forget about it._

"Hermione…"

She didn't know how many more times she'd be able to stand hearing him say her name. She replied with silence, waiting for him to continue.

"Hermione, I'm sorry…"

"For?" she asked.

"Everything…" he began. He was quiet for a moment. "I should have told you about Michelle and not kept her from you…"

"Yes, you should have. Maybe then I'd have been keener to stop you last Monday…"

Draco was silent. Clearly he felt terrible about what he'd done.

"Why Draco?" she asked. "Why? She seems like a lovely woman, and you're clearly serious about her. How could you do that to her?"

"There's no good answer to that," Draco pleaded.

"Yes, you're right, there isn't, because it means you either weren't thinking about her at all, or you were thinking about her and didn't care," Hermione accused.

He was silent.

"I'm not going to say you took advantage of me, because you absolutely did not. I was perfectly willing and wanted it very much and believed the circumstances to be relatively innocent," she said. "I was under the impression that I was not the only one unattached to anyone."

"I know…" he said quietly.

"But that's not how it really was, Draco. I'm willing to go on and pretend like it never happened. It's a matter of if you can live with yourself or not. That's totally up to you and there's nothing I can do to help you with it."

Silence again. She sighed.

"You are my employer and my friend. I will not desert you, and I fully support your relationship with Michelle."

It pained her a little to say that, but she did seem like a good match for Draco, and she knew she had no business thinking ill of a woman she hardly knew simply because she was the _rightful_ partner of the man she'd slept with.

"Thank you, Hermione."

"You're welcome."

"You mean a lot to me. You really do. I can't begin to describe to you the effect you've had here."

She gave him a small smile. "I've tried my best. I'm glad you've given me the chance to do it."

"Anytime."

"How long do you expect Michelle to be staying?" she asked, fearing the answer.

"I'm not entirely sure. Maybe a few weeks," he answered. She gave no indication of her reaction to that.

"You should go up and spend some time with Scorpius. He's missed you so much, Draco."

"I know."

"He was crying in my arms yesterday just before your owl came."

Draco stared at her.

"He was crying for me?" he asked.

"Absolutely in tears," she affirmed. "He couldn't believe you'd left without even telling him and were gone for so long without even writing to us."

She could see the pain behind his eyes at that.

"I wish you hadn't told me that…" he said softly.

"Well, Draco, I'm sorry, but some things you just need to hear," she said. "He's your son. You need to know what goes on in his mind while you're not here. It pains him, Draco. You've shown him the kind of father you can be and he has never been happier. You can't keep taking that away from him."

He looked at the floor.

"I really don't know what I'd do without you," he said quietly.

Her heart softened a bit.

"You'd manage," she said. "But even though I'm here for him now, Draco, you can't let that be your constant backup plan. You still need to be trying to be the best father you can be for him."

"I know," he said, looking back up at her again. "But I still thank you for all that you do."

She swallowed. "You're welcome."

"I think I will go up and see how they're doing…" he said.

"That's a wonderful idea," Hermione said, smiling.

"Good night, Hermoine," he said. Then he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek before walking out of the room.

She closed her eyes and touched the spot on her cheek where he'd kissed her with two delicate fingers.

"Good night…" she whispered, as she opened her eyes again. She looked down at the book in her hand, then she, too, walked out of the room, but she went up the stairs and to the left, into the west wing, and into her room for the night.

She locked the door behind her.


	9. The Critic

**Chapter 9**

_The Critic_

* * *

"You did wonderfully with Scorpius this evening, Michelle."

Draco and Michelle were talking together in his room – she sitting on the bed, already in a nightdress; and he standing by the bathroom door unbuttoning his shirt.

"Thank you, Draco," she replied. "Children are usually difficult for me to handle…"

Draco smiled at her, finally having undone all his buttons and shrugging off his shirt.

"Do you think he likes me?" she asked suddenly.

Draco thought for a moment.

"Yes, I believe he does. He's much more welcoming to new people since Hermione came along."

"He does seem quite taken with your governess," she noted.

"He is, indeed. She's more of a parent than I ever was to him."

Michelle stiffened a little.

"I didn't mean it that way, Michelle," he said, stepping over to the bed and sitting next to her. "I just mean that, since Scorpius has never had a mother, Hermione has been able to show him the woman's love and care that I never could."

Michelle sighed.

"You know that I someday hope to make you the rightful mother to Scorpius. Hermione has just been a good start for him."

"I know, Draco," she said, smiling slightly and looking at him. "I only hope that I can measure up."

Draco smiled back. "I know you will."

He leaned in and kissed her gently, which she readily returned.

"I love you, Michelle."

"I love you too, Draco," she murmured into his lips, and leaned into the kiss even more. Draco growled hungrily and slowly lowered her down onto her back. They had made love many times before, but never in the manor. He was eager to fix that.

* * *

Hermione awoke the next morning and tried to rid her stomach of the slightly sick feeling that lingered there. It was the same feeling she always got after she'd had a rough night the day before, whenever something so dreadfully awful had happened that she'd wished it were only a dream. She took a deep breath and slowly got out of bed, determined not to let anyone know that she was anything less than well.

Her stomach felt still sicker when she remembered that "anyone" now included Michelle.

Hermione couldn't understand why she felt such a bond to Draco. They were nothing more than friends. Friends who'd had an accidental sexual encounter. It happened all the time, right? There were plenty of cases of sexual tension between friends.

_Not with me_, she reminded herself. _I've never let that happen before._

Trying to reason with herself that there was a first time for everything, she got herself ready and made it down to the dining room at precisely eight o'clock.

The monster in her stomach squirmed a little when she saw Michelle sitting at Hermione's usual place at the table on Draco's left side.

Determined to ignore the monster, she smiled warmly when she entered the room and took the seat on Scorpius's left.

"Good morning, everyone," she said. She got a chorus of "good mornings" in reply, but an especially bright one from Scorpius.

"What are we learning today, Hermione?" he asked her. She smiled at him.

"What would you _like_ to learn about?"

"Hmmm…" he said, thinking. "Potions?" he suggested.

For some reason she was relieved he hadn't said French.

"Certainly. We'll do Potions first then," she said. He beamed at her, and then Dmitry and Davius appeared in the room.

"Coffee?" the first offered, pouring mugs for everyone but Scorpius.

"And for breakfast this morning, we have excellent spinach quiche!" declared the second, putting an individual-sized pan of it in front of each person.

"Spinach?" cried Scorpius.

"Scorpius…" said Draco warningly.

"I promise it won't taste a bit like spinach," Hermione assured him. "Eat up and maybe we can skip one of our lessons today!"

Scorpius humphed and stared at the dish in front of him.

"If you _don't_ eat it then I'll give you _double_ lessons today," she warned. "Breakfast is very important and you should eat what's put in front of you. Dmitry and Davius work very hard on the meals they prepare for us."

"Right…" Scorpius said, staring at the dish a little more. "I guess I can eat it…" he finished, and slowly started eating it in tiny forkfuls.

Draco was staring at Hermione in awe.

She just smiled and began eating her quiche.

* * *

Scorpius was running about in the back gardens that afternoon while the three of them sat on the patio having afternoon tea.

"So Draco," said Michelle, "Do you host many parties here? Your home is so beautiful and just built for entertaining."

_No,_ Hermione thought. _He doesn't host parties because he's never home – he's always away visiting you!_

Shooing that atrocious thought away, she pasted on a smile and waited for Draco's answer.

"No, actually," Draco replied. "Not much of a social gathering type of person… and having Scorpius makes it difficult."

"Of course," Michelle replied, as if she'd been considering Scorpius as a factor all along. She paused, then said, "Well, now that you have lovely Hermione here, perhaps you can host a party or a ball and Hermione can look after Scorpius?"

Hermione tried not to be offended. She was, after all, the governess of Malfoy Manor and looking after Scorpius was her full-time job.

Draco glanced at Hermione before answering.

"I don't know, Michelle. Scorpius will wonder what all the fuss is about, and I don't like excluding Hermione…"

"But Draco, it would be a perfectly delightful way for me to meet all your friends and family!" she cooed.

Hermione felt sick again.

"Yes, I suppose that's true…" he conceded. "Would you like me to host a ball in your honor next weekend?"

"Oh, that would be just lovely!" Michelle exclaimed. "Will you, Draco? Will you?"

"I suppose so, yes," he said. He then switched his gaze to Hermione. "Of course I'll need to you look after Scorpius… but once he is in bed then you are more than welcome to join the festivities. You are just as much a part of this household as anyone."

Hermione was taken aback.

"Are you sure, Draco? I wouldn't want to impose."

"Absolutely. You are welcome anywhere and at any time in this house."

She tried to keep her smile modest. "I'm honored, Draco. I will join the party shortly after eight once Scorpius is asleep."

Michelle kept her smile even.

"How lovely!" she said. "Oh, it will be such fun. I am so excited!"

Draco smiled at her, but Hermione knew he was less than thrilled. Draco had never been the center of popularity even in school. He didn't like a lot of attention – that's why he'd stayed at Malfoy Manor. It was secluded, out in the country, away from the rest of the wizarding population. Outside the expansive Malfoy property there were only a few Muggle farmers, and they hadn't a clue that Malfoy Manor even existed. There were many protective charms around the Manor – much like the ones at the Quidditch World Cup Tournaments – that kept Muggles from even going near the place.

Michelle had him absolutely wrapped around her little French finger, and Hermione was less than pleased about it.

But _why_?

Draco may have been her friend, but he was foremost her employer. Her superior. She had absolutely no business wandering about in his personal affairs feeling righteously offended on his behalf and attempting to protect him.

She squirmed uncomfortably in her suit. She had donned the green and black one she'd gotten free from the clothes shop today. She wasn't used to spending her days dressed up this way, but after noticing that Michelle dressed impeccably all the time – her nightdress probably even had buttons and lace, she thought – she decided that she didn't want to embarrass Draco in her usual jeans and cotton button down attire.

Today, Michelle was sporting a cream colored satin dress. It had spaghetti straps and came down to her knees. A bold brown sash and brown heeled sandals completed the ensemble.

Hermione had no earthly idea how the woman stood such uncomfortable clothing in the summer heat. She didn't seem to be even perspiring at all.

Even Draco had added some style to his dress. She rarely saw him in anything beyond his typical black slacks and white oxford shirt, but today he wore those and added to them a striking silver patterned vest with a black and silver tie. His usual 40-galleon black shoes finished it off.

He was so wonderfully handsome that she could hardly stand it.

Meanwhile, Draco was feeling the pressure and heat just as much if not more so than Hermione. He never wore a vest and tie just lazing about the house. He mentally cursed Michelle's French background. Damn the French and their need to be always on the up-and-coming, tip-top-of-the-triangle of style. He lived in the country for a reason – many reasons, but one of which was so that he did not have to be under the scrutiny of the public eye.

It was only because he was in love with this particular eye from the public that he conformed at all.

He felt so badly for Hermione. She was plainly just as uncomfortable as he was. She kept moving around and fiddling in her seat. He noticed her often looking over at Scorpius as he played. He would follow her glance every once in a while. The boy had such a fascination with rabbits, he wondered if it was unhealthy. Hermione had told him of how many times Scorpius would chase them, catch them, freeze them, and then release them.

Speaking of which… he thought, as he looked closer at Scorpius.

It appeared he had caught a rabbit again.

"Hermione…"

"Already on it, Draco," she said, standing up. He watched her as she removed her blazer, revealing a silk tank top underneath.

"I apologize," she said, motioning to the blazer, "but I don't want to ruin it," she explained, and then dashed off into the garden.

He'd had to swallow painfully when she removed the jacket. Her arms were toned and strong and the silk top was low cut and revealed just enough of her chest to jog his memory.

"I'm so incredibly jealous," Michelle said, breaking the silence and drawing Draco's attention back to her.

"Of?"

"Of her… her ability to work so well and seemingly unhindered with Scorpius… I wish I could have that kind of talent."

"You are talented in everything else, my love."

Michelle sighed.

"I know, but children… they are such a simple joy. To possess the power to commune with them as Hermione does is enviable. I fear that Scorpius may grow to love her more than he would love me."

Draco paused. That was a thought he hadn't considered.

"I'm sure he will not. The bond he has with Hermione is purely a governess-student relationship. One day if you become his mother, that bond will certainly be stronger."

He wasn't fully convinced of this, but he said it to placate Michelle anyway. He watched as Hermione waved her wand over the rabbit and it hopped away. Scorpius was looking longingly after it and Hermione lightly tapped him on the head with her wand. He could only imagine what she must he saying to him…

"Why did she need to go to him?" Michelle asked.

"He… likes to chase rabbits. His magical core is powerful, he already has access to magic, though he still doesn't know how to use it. So… whenever he chases them, he often accidentally freezes them. Hermione has been trying to teach him how to control his magic without the use of a wand, but it is very difficult for a child."

"How very curious," Michelle replied. "I rarely even find a need to use magic anymore."

"Oh?" Draco asked.

"I find that, with being waited on hand and foot, using magic becomes entirely unnecessary."

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"So you'd say that all your years at Beauxbatons were useless?"

"Well, no, of course not! Without my education I never could have gotten my position in the French Wizengamot. I need the knowledge of magical theory for my career."

"But someday when you retire?"

"Then yes, I would say that my years at Beauxbatons would be rendered entirely useless."

Draco could only imagine that Hermione would be having a heart attack if she were hearing this. Draco, too, was often waited on hand and foot but the ability to use and practice magic was an ability granted to very few by the Powers That Be, and he wasn't about to waste them. He used magic whenever he could. He was not about to commentate any of this to Michelle, however, and decided instead to shift the conversation back to Scorpius.

"Scorpius promises to be a very powerful wizard, I think," he said.

"Is that so?" Michelle asked.

"I believe so. Hermione has even pointed out that his abilities are advanced, and why wouldn't they be? I have a fair bit of magical power, and Isabella was very powerful."

"You're both pureblood, then, I assume?" Michelle asked. Draco's insides squirmed a bit.

"Yes, we both came from a long line of wizarding blood. Hermione also, however, is extremely powerful. I've seen her do things other witches could only dream of. It's why I think she is such a perfect governess for Scorpius."

"She must also come from a powerful family, then?"

Draco sighed. "Well, no, not really."

"Is she a half-blood?" Michelle asked curiously. "I've heard of rare occasions of half-blood wizards and witches inheriting recessive magical genes."

Draco knew the conversation was about to take a bad turn. He hadn't realized Michelle's prejudice against non-pureblood wizards. The topic had never come up before, as both of them were pureblood. Draco's personal hatred for anyone not of a pureblood line had begun to decrease while he was still in school, at the end of his sixth year. The Dark Lord's assignment for Draco to kill Dumbledore had opened his eyes to a lot of things that he didn't like about all of the intricacies of Voldemort's regime. After Voldemort's death, Draco had had more and more proof over the years of wizards and witches of muggle descent that were exceedingly powerful, and everything he had stood for growing up had fallen apart before his eyes.

"Actually… no," he admitted. "Hermione is a muggle-born witch."

Michelle was speechless. Draco was eager to return Hermione to a positive light.

"I'm sure you remember the story of the Dark Lord's downfall eight years ago," he rushed on.

"Of course," Michelle replied. "As I lived in France I did not hear many details, but it was wonderful news to hear that he had finally been defeated by that Potter boy… truly amazing story… But he came from highly powerful parents, I heard?"

Draco knew that Potter's mother had been muggle-born but he figured now was not the time to bring that up. He also didn't want himself getting brought into this, as Michelle didn't know just how involved Draco had been with Voldemort and his followers.

"Yes, powerful parents. It took him years to eventually manage to defeat him, but he had a lot of help."

"Well I'm sure," Michelle said. "No one could undertake such a thing alone."

"You're quite right," Draco said. "Hermione, actually, is the same Hermione Granger who was Harry Potter's best friend through all of it… without her, I'd venture to say that Potter may not have made it out alive."

Again, Michelle was speechless for a moment.

"Draco, you cannot be serious. A muggle-born witch? Governess to your son? Accomplice to the wizard boy who destroyed the Dark Lord?"

"We were in the same year at Hogwarts," Draco assured her. "I have known them both personally since I was eleven."

Michelle looked very calculating.

"I should think you would invite such a hero as Harry Potter to this ball you are having for me. You are, after all, one of the most important wizards in England… he would be honored to attend."

Draco could think of more than a few adjectives that Potter could be described as if he were to receive an invitation to a ball in Draco's home, but 'honored' was definitely not one of them. Irritated, angry, hostile, or murderous, perhaps… but definitely not honored.

He gave Michelle an ambiguous smile.

"I think Harry Potter has better things to worry about than trifling with mundane balls at Malfoy Manor."

She huffed. "If you say so."

They were silent as Hermione led Scorpius by the hand back over to the patio.

"Scorpius, we really need to try to get a handle on this… this is getting ridiculous…"

"But Hermione!" he whined. "I don't know why it happens!"

"I've told you. You're a natural born wizard, Scorpius. You possess magic in you already, and a lot of it. When your emotions aren't in check, it can display itself. We need to work on keeping you level headed and even tempered, and keeping you away from rabbits, for heaven's sake…"

Scorpius groaned and gave his father a pleading glance.

"You know she's right, Scorpius," he said. "I have a feeling you'll be very successful in school if you can learn to channel your magic properly."

Hermione glanced at the graying sky.

"It looks like a storm is coming, Draco, and it's after four o'clock already. I think it's time we go inside for dinner before we all get soaked," she suggested, and grabbed her blazer off her vacated chair with the hand that wasn't holding Scorpius's and led him inside.

Draco glanced heavenward for a moment. The storm clouds looked ominous.

"I believe she's right, dear," Draco said. "Let's go inside and see what the delightful Dmitry and Davius have prepared us for dinner tonight."

She gazed at him for a moment, then got up and followed him inside without a word.


	10. Don't Leave, I Think I Love You

**Author's Note:** Guys, for real... I wish FanFiction had a "like" button on each review like Facebook does on statuses and comments. Some of your reviews just make my whole day! Keep it up. I definitely never imagined this story would be so successful. 133 people on the Story Alert list and over a hundred reviews... and probably way more than 10,000 hits... I wish I had an accurate number but it froze at 4,194 shortly after I uploaded chapter 5! I heart you guys. Thanks so much for the support. Check out the tumblr blog for photos of the outfits from this chapter! (They're just dashing!)

* * *

**Chapter 10**

_Don't Leave, I Think I Love You_

* * *

The days until the Malfoy Manor Ball dragged on slowly, but eventually, the day came. It was a Saturday evening and Malfoy Manor was fuller than it had ever been, Hermione was sure. The party had started precisely at six with an extravagant five-course dinner. (Hermione and Scorpius had had personal platters of everything delivered to the back gardens, where she was watching him.) By the time everyone had finished eating, it was a little past seven and music was starting to flow through the house.

"Is that music?" Scorpius asked Hermione, looking up from the book they were reading together on a bench.

"Yes, it is, dear," Hermione answered. "It sounds like a waltz."

"What's that?" Scorpius asked. Hermione smiled.

"Let's take a peek, shall we?" she said mischievously. Scorpius smiled as she led him by the hand to the back French doors. Through it, they could see past the grand staircase into the foyer, which was being used as a makeshift ballroom. In it, many couples were already dancing together in the smooth and fluid movements of the waltz. Hermione opened the door and the music came spilling out. Scorpius watched in awe.

"How do all they all know how to do the same thing at the same time?" he asked.

"It's a very calculated dance," Hermione answered. "Do you want to learn?"

Scorpius gasped. "Really?"

"Well sure. I used to know how to waltz, I'm sure I can still remember a thing or two…" she said. She picked him up and put his weight on her left hip. She was in a simple, casual black dress right now – she was planning on changing after Scorpius went to bed before she joined the ball.

"The first thing you have to do is get the position right. You have to have this hand around my waist," she started, nodding to Scorpius's right hand which was already close to her waist the way she was holding him, "and then we hold our other hands together and outwards," she finished, taking his left hand in her right and holding it up. "Now, we find the beat of a waltz, which is always _one _-two-three, _one _-two-three, _one _-two-three," she said. She paused and Scorpius listened. She found the beat and softly whispered, "Do you hear it? _One _-two-three, _one _-two-three, _one _-two-three…"

"I think so," Scorpius said.

"Good! Now we have to start the actual dancing. Now look down at my feet," she said, and he did. "First my left foot takes a step back, then my right foot steps backwards and over, and then my left foot comes together with my right foot. Each movement is to the one, two, and three of the beat." She did a few measures to the beat and Scorpius giggled.

"And the _best_ part," Hermione said, "is that while you're remembering all of that, you have to spin around in a circle!" And she proceeded to do so, "waltzing" with Scorpius to the music flowing out of the doors and spinning them both around in a graceful circle. Scorpius giggled and laughed and Hermione began to laugh with him until one of her spins brought her facing the door and she saw Draco casually leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed in a smashing black three-button tuxedo with tails and a white shirt, vest, and tie. She stopped immediately, making her head spin a little, and Scorpius's too, apparently, because he gave a small "Woah…" and shook his head a little, then looked up to see Draco.

"Hello, Father!" he said giddily. "Hermione is teaching me to waltz!"

Draco smiled. "I see that, but it's hard to get the full effect when both of your feet are off the ground."

Scorpius frowned.

"Here, how about I take your place and you can see how it's really done," he offered. Hermione stared at him curiously, but slowly lowered Scorpius to the ground, where he scrambled over to the bench to watch. Draco joined her as a new song – another waltz, of course – began to play from the doors.

"So you see, Scorpius," Draco said, "I put my hand on her waist, and she puts her hand on my shoulder," he did these things as he said them, having to guide Hermione's hand to his shoulder because she was still a little startled.

"Right," Scorpius said.

"And then we take each other's hand in our other hands," he continued, taking Hermione's hand in his, stretching their arms out and raising their hands to the same relative height as their shoulders.

"Right," Scorpius said again.

"And most importantly, we have to make sure we're standing straight," Draco smiled, and pulled his shoulders back a bit. Hermione did the same. She had been avoiding his gaze thus far.

"And then… we dance," Draco said, and Hermione looked into his eyes as he began to guide her around the patio to the steady _one _-two-three of the music. Her gaze was locked with his as they gracefully spun around, her feet easily following his in the box step. For just a moment, the rest of the world was lost again, just like it had been when he'd first kissed her. It was only the two of them, lost in each other's eyes as they danced together, almost as a single unit, under the darkening summer sky…

"You two dance very well together," came a voice from the doorway. They stopped immediately and separated, both looking over to see Michelle standing in the doorway. She was dressed in an elaborate black ballgown speckled with what Hermione was sure were diamonds. It was strapless, with a sheer torso that showed a hint of a toned abdomen. The skirt of the gown clearly had tulle under it and poofed out from her figure slightly.

"Thank you," they both replied together, Hermione a little awkwardly.

"I had no idea a governess could be so adept at waltzing," Michelle simpered, looking at Hermione. Hermione gave a small smile in reply.

"I learned a little growing up at Hogwarts," she said. "I'm a bit rusty now."

"I see," Michelle said. "It's nearly time for Scorpius to get to bed and for you to join the party, you know," she reminded Hermione. "Draco, why don't you go back and join the festivities? I'll put Scorpius to bed while Hermione gets ready."

"But I—" started Scorpius, but Hermione interrupted him.

"That's a wonderful idea, Michelle," Hermione replied. "Run along with Michelle, Scorpius. I'll see you in the morning."

Scorpius slid down off of the bench and trotted along after Michelle to the grand staircase. Draco and Hermione watched them go, and then he looked back at her.

They were alone.

Again.

"You are an excellent dancer," Draco said. He stepped closer to her again. Hermione's breath quickened.

"Thank you… as are you…"

"Thank you," he answered. They were silent.

"I look forward to many more dances with you when you join the party," he said. And then did the unthinkable.

He leaned forward and planted a soft, tender kiss on her lips.

Hermione was so surprised that he was gone by the time she'd registered it, and stood there alone for a moment staring out into the darkening gardens.

Shaking herself, she followed Michelle's footsteps inside and up the grand staircase to her room, where her dress for the evening (which she had bought – reluctantly – with money from Draco earlier in the week) hung on the curtain rod over the French doors.

It was a crimson red, reminiscent of her days at Hogwarts. It had a simple sweetheart neck trimmed with silver and was strapless. The skirt was full and had a slight bustle and was pinned at the hip with a silver brooch. Besides her wedding dress someday, Hermione was sure it would be the most beautiful dress she'd ever wear in her life. She had just stepped over to it to remove it from the hanger when she heard a knock on her door.

"Come in," she said cautiously, possibly expecting Draco. Instead, she turned around and found Michelle.

"Michelle!" she said, surprised. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"No, dear, I just wanted to talk to you," she said, smiling sweetly. Hermione's hands lowered from the hanger, leaving the dress where it was.

"Concerning?"

Michelle gave a small sigh before smiling again and replying.

"It's very obvious, you know," she said.

"I'm sorry?" Hermione asked, afraid of what Michelle might be referring to.

"He loves you."

"He… who… what?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Draco. He loves you."

"Michelle… No, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid he simply does not…"

"I saw the way he looked at you when you two were dancing together," she said simply. She didn't even seem upset, really… Hermione found this odd.

"Go on…" she said cautiously.

"Well, really, _cherie_, it's only a matter of time before you love him, too…"

Hermione was speechless.

"You know it's true. He wasn't the only one with that look in his eyes in the gardens."

Hermione looked at the floor, studying the floorboards as she analyzed her memories of her and Draco – trying very desperately to leave out the sex.

"It's very dangerous for you to be here, knowing those things," Michelle cautioned. Hermione's gaze snapped up to her.

"What—"

"Think about little Scorpius," pressed Michelle. "He doesn't know what to think. His father has a girlfriend but he's in love with his governess…"

This was madness. Draco couldn't possibly love her.

_Could he?_

"I… I suppose you're right… if that _is_ the case…" Hermione said. She would do anything for Scorpius. The last thing Draco needed was for his son to be more attached to his governess than to his new mother… For his son to be confused as to why Michelle was his mother and Hermione was not…

"Now, I'm not going to pressure you, but really, its…"

"It's better if I leave," Hermione said. Whether that's what Michelle was going to say or not, it was the truth. Scorpius didn't deserve this. He shouldn't have to be brought up with two mother figures, and his father going back and forth between the two.

And Michelle didn't deserve to be living with a man who would go kissing his governess behind her back.

"Yes, dear, I think you're right."

Hermione remembered Draco's request for more dances tonight and her stomach dropped.

"Tonight. Now. I need to leave."

Michelle smiled sadly. "Yes, I think that's best, _cherie._ Do you need help packing?"

"No, no, Draco will be wondering where you are. Go back down to the party. I can manage with magic just fine."

Michelle walked over to Hermione and put a hand on her shoulder.

"You're such a self-sacrificing woman, Hermione. And a very powerful witch, it appears. Though you are muggle-born."

With that, she turned, and was gone.

Hermione blinked after her, turning the muggle-born comment over in her mind. Shaking herself out of it, she grabbed her wand, opened her trunk, and in one sweeping motion brought all of her belongings into it. It banged shut and locked. The wardrobe stood open. Inside it hung the two suits she'd bought, and the red dress still hung on the French doors.

They had been bought with Draco's money. They were not rightly hers, and under no circumstances would she take them.

She quickly penned a note to Draco – so he would know she'd left of her own volition – and left it on the desk. She enchanted it so that only he could open it (just in case), and then had an afterthought.

The last time he'd paid her, she'd noticed it was more than normal. After counting it she had realized it was fifteen galleons over – he had tried to give her back the fifteen galleons he felt he owed her from Scorpius's birthday. She opened her trunk and pulled her purse out, counting out fifteen galleons and left them next to the letter on the desk before replacing her purse back in the trunk. Taking one last glance around the room, wand in hand, she sighed deeply.

"Dmitry! Davius!" she called. Immediately they appeared before her and surveyed the room curiously.

"_Mademoiselle,_ it appears you are leaving… all your things are packed," said the first.

"Shouldn't you be joining the party?" said the other. Hermione gave them a sad smile.

"Unfortunately I have been given a reason to leave Malfoy Manor."

"_Mademoiselle!_" they chorused together.

"Surely you shall return?" said the first.

"When can we expect you back?" asked the second.

Hermione sighed, feeling tears welling in her eyes.

"Unfortunately, I think I am leaving for good."

Dmitry and Davius both gasped dramatically – and in unison. She was certainly going to miss them.

"But _why_?" the both asked.

"I'd rather not talk about it. Please make sure that Draco finds the letter I left him," she said, pointing to the desk.

"Absolutely," they chorused.

"Also, I don't want anyone to see me leaving… is there any way you can help with that?"

"Certainly!" said the first. "I shall take you, and Davius shall take your trunk." He – Dmitry, she now knew – took her hand while Davius lifted her trunk as if it were as light as Styrofoam.

"Where to?" Dmitry asked her.

"Just outside the front gates, I can apparate from there…" she said.

"On our way!" Davius said, and they disappeared from the room.

It was entirely unlike the uncomfortable sensation of apparition. She felt like she was floating. All she could see was a gold and silver mist, and Dmitry floating next to her. She only felt the firm grip of his gloved hand on hers… and then, they were on solid ground again.

"Do you require anything else, _mademoiselle_?" asked Dmitry. He was still smiling, but it was a sad smile.

"No, Dmitry, I think I'm fine," she said and her voice caught. "Thank you both… so much… for making my time here so wonderful."

"No problem at all!" they chorused.

"If you ever need anything, just call!" said Davius, and with that, they disappeared in their usual golden mist.

Hermione was alone. Dreadfully alone. She bit her lip as a lone tear ran down her cheek. She turned and gave Malfoy Manor – what she had begun to view as her home – one last look before turning her trunk on its end, gripping the handle firmly, and turning on her heel sharply.

Unfortunately, she disappeared not with a golden mist, but only the stark emptiness of the dark.


	11. Crash Here Tonight

**Author's Note:** Okay, so, if you haven't read the blog, I **strongly** suggest you do. Reminder, it's " **spicysugar368** dot **tumblr** dot **com** " .. the reason I say this is because even though I announced on the blog that this story is, indeed, loosely based off of the Sound Of Music, I still had a billion reviews letting me know of the stark resemblances and asking if I aware that it was so close. So, yes, indeed, I am aware guys, haha. I said at the beginning of chapter one that this whole story was loosely based off of "one of my favorite musicals" and that musical is the Sound of Music. Enjoy Chapter 11!

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**Chapter 11**

_Crash Here Tonight_

* * *

Hermione arrived with a _pop_ inside her mother's living room. In the kitchen, her mother heard the sound and came into the room to investigate.

"Hermione?" she asked incredulously, her hands wet with soapsuds. She'd been doing the dishes. Such a mundane thing… Hermione had forgotten about the need to do dishes…

"Hello, Mother," she said quietly. "I'm back."

"To stay?" her mother asked, still not believing it.

"Yes. To stay."

Her mother stared for a moment.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you of course but… why?"

Hermione sighed.

"I'd rather not talk about it. Maybe tomorrow."

Her mother bit her lip, then rushed forward and enveloped Hermione in a hug. Hermione held her mother tightly, with all the remaining strength she had, and she felt tears begin to fall from her eyes.

_No, Hermione, no! He is NOT worth crying over… Stop it…_

But the more she tried to talk herself out of it, the faster the tears flowed.

"Hermione!" cried her mother, seeing she was upset. "Hermione, please, just tell me what's wrong…"

Hermione sniffled, cursing herself for acting like a child.

"I can't, Mother. Not right now. I think I'm just going to go to bed…"

"All right, Hermione," her mother conceded. "You know I'm here if you need me."

"Yes, Mother, I know," Hermione replied. She then levitated her trunk up the stairs, following closely behind it. When she got into her old room she was almost shocked at how plain it was. It had ordinary white walls and her bed was a simple double with a red coverlet. Pictures of she, Harry, Ron, and her family adorned the furniture in frames – some moving, others not. It seemed so small that Hermione was almost claustrophobic in it, even though it was the second largest bedroom in the house. She let her trunk drop in the center of the floor and she collapsed onto her bed.

She missed Malfoy Manor already and she'd been gone five minutes.

But was it really just the manor that she missed?

No, she decided. It was much more than that. That was why she'd left in the first place, and why she hadn't told Draco the truth about why she was leaving. She'd lied – blatantly lied – in her note that she'd left to him. She only hoped that he didn't pick up on it and didn't come to check on her.

* * *

Draco had just finished a foxtrot with Michelle and he suddenly realized that it had been an hour since he'd sent Hermione upstairs to change and join the party. Knowing Hermione's aptitude with magic, he was sure it wouldn't have taken her that long to get ready.

"I'm going to go upstairs and check on Scorpius," Draco said to Michelle. He wasn't sure why he felt the need to lie.

"Oh, Draco, don't worry yourself with that, I'll go…" Michelle started.

"No," Draco said firmly. Michelle seemed startled. "I mean…" Draco continued, softening his voice. "This may be a party in my house, but it's for you. Stay here. Mingle. Talk. I'll be down shortly."

"As you wish," she said, and gracefully stepped away from him into the crowd, grabbing a glass of champagne off of a table as she went.

Draco, meanwhile, was already halfway up the grand staircase. He did pass by Scorpius's room on the way and peeked inside to see that he was sleeping soundly, but did not linger and continued down the west corridor until reaching Hermione's room. The door was closed, so he knocked lightly.

"Hermione?" he called softly.

No answer.

Thinking that she was possibly in the bathroom and couldn't hear him, he gently opened the door.

The room was totally dark except for the slight glow from the twilight sun outside. Her dress for the evening – which, he realized, he hadn't seen before and looked positively stunning – was hanging by the door. Her wardrobe stood open and revealed only two suits.

"Hermione?" he called, louder this time.

No answer again.

The room, under the spell Hermione had put on it, sensed Draco's presence. He noticed a yellow glow coming from Hermione's desk. Curiously, he walked over to it and found the source to be an envelope with his name on it in Hermione's tidy script. Fifteen galleons sat in a neat pile next to it.

The fifteen galleons he'd added on to her last paycheck from Scorpius's birthday.

Not wasting any time, he quickly slit open the letter and read:

_Draco,_

_I am sure you are wondering where I went. Please rest easy. I am safe and left of my own volition and am back with my mother again. She has taken a turn for the worse with her mental health and I feel it is my duty as her daughter to be with her in such a troublesome time for her._

_I have truly and sincerely enjoyed my time at Malfoy Manor. I do not know if I will ever be able to return. I greatly apologize for having to leave so suddenly but my mother's need was pressing. Please send my apologies to Scorpius and tell him that I will miss him very much._

_I'll miss you, as well. My employer and my friend._

_Yours always,_

_Hermione_

Draco stared at the letter, not comprehending, before he read it over a second and then a third time.

She was gone.

Hermione was gone.

She'd just… left without a word.

For a brief moment he felt extremely angry. How could she do that to him? To Scorpius? But as he read the letter over a fourth time he could read the desperation in her words, could sense how she was feeling, could almost hear her speaking to him.

Her mother needed her. Who was he to take that from her? Her mother was the only family she had left. He sighed, then carefully folded the letter and put it in his jacket pocket. As he walked back down the stairs and joined the party, he almost didn't want to admit how much he would miss her.

"Everything in order with Scorpius?" Michelle asked as she joined his side again when he entered the foyer.

"With Scorpius, yes," Draco began hesitantly. "Otherwise… no."

"What do you mean by that, Draco?" Michelle asked him, smiling easily.

"It appears that my governess has left," he answered simply. Michelle gasped.

"Hermione? She's left? Where has she gone?" she asked.

"Back to her mother," he explained. "She is in ill health."

Michelle frowned very dramatically. "How dreadfully awful… I do hope everything is all right… How terrible for her to leave us so suddenly…"

"How terrible, indeed," Draco said.

Michelle gave a small sigh.

"But do not let it worry you, darling," she said to Draco, taking his hand and leading him into the thick of the party. "Just because she has chosen to leave us does not mean you cannot enjoy yourself tonight!"

Draco hadn't wanted the party in the first place, but after such an upset with Hermione he only wanted to be alone. Knowing that he could not possibly get away with such a feat, he forced himself into social interaction and eventually was acting so convincingly that he thought he might actually be halfway enjoying himself.

The last of the guests left just after midnight and he and Michelle retired up to his room.

"I had a great deal of fun tonight," Michelle said, sitting gracefully down on Draco's bed to remove her elegant heels.

Draco was silent as he removed his tuxedo jacket.

"Draco?"

"Yes, I enjoyed myself as well," he finally said.

"Are you all right?"

"Worried."

"About?"

Draco sighed. "Hermione. It just seems so strange that she would leave so suddenly. It's very unlike her."

Michelle sighed and, having rid herself of her shoes, stood up and walked over to him – several inches shorter, now.

"Draco, you said yourself that her mother was in ill health… you cannot fault her for leaving under such circumstances. Would you not do the same for your own mother?"

Draco wondered about that for a second considering how well he got along with his mother – which was not at all – but then decided he saw Michelle's point anyway and decided to agree.

"Hermione cares about those close to her very dearly. I think she is closer to no one than her mother. So yes, I can understand."

Michelle smiled.

"I am sure she will keep us updated on her progress, dear," she said sweetly.

She was beginning to unfasten his tie and unbutton his shirt.

"Yes I… I'm sure…" Draco said, faltering as Michelle began kissing his neck.

"Mmhmm…" Michelle said. "Now…" she whispered in his ear, "how about you let me help you forget all about Hermione tonight…"

As conflicted as Draco's emotions may have been at that moment, he was still a man, and he took Michelle up on that offer quite readily.

* * *

Hermione awoke the following morning in her own room and for a moment wondered why she was there.

It didn't take long for the memories to come rushing back.

She fought tears as she slowly got up and got ready and then met her mother for breakfast.

"Would you like to talk this morning, dear?" her mother offered. Hermione's stomach wrenched.

"No, I… no. I think not," Hermione replied, sipping at her coffee. "I think I'm going to go over to Harry's today."

"Harry's?" her mother asked. "Harry from school?"

Hermione smiled inwardly at how juvenile the question sounded… like she was running along to a friend's house after primary school.

"Yes, Mother. That Harry."

"Well, I'm sure he will be just delighted to see you since you've been gone so long… How long will you be out?"

Hermione paused.

"I'm not entirely sure. I'm sure Harry will have lots of questions for me." She finished the last of her coffee and stood up from the table.

"Well, just don't be gone too long… you've only just come home, I'd like some time with you too, you know…"

Hermione felt guilty for running away from the house but it was too painful for her to experience the stark contrast between the manor and her home.

"I know, Mother. I promise I won't be late."

Her mother smiled and gave Hermione another hug.

"Regardless of why… I'm glad you're home."

Hermione hesitated before answering. "Me too, Mother. I'll be back later."

"Goodbye, dear," her mother said, and Hermione turned on her heel and was gone.

She appeared outside of Harry's house – a stately little place he'd set up in Godric's Hollow - a moment later. As Harry was independently wealthy thanks to his parents, he didn't have financial troubles. It was ten in the morning, she was sure he'd be up by now. She opened the front gate and walked up to his front door, ringing the doorbell.

She waited a minute and he didn't come to the door. She tried again.

"I'm coming, I'm coming, hold your hippogriffs…" she heard his muffled voice from inside. She smiled. A moment later he opened the door dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt that he'd clearly just thrown on to get to the door. His hair was messier than usual and his eyes were a little bleary.

Damn, she'd woken him.

"Hermione?" he said, blinking at her.

"Hello, Harry," she smiled.

"Blimey, so I'm _not _dreaming…"

"Nope."

"What are you doing here? I mean, not to be rude or anything, but I thought…"

"I've left Malfoy Manor," she answered. Harry blinked again.

"Well thank Merlin, it's about time…" he said. "Come in, don't just stand there on the doorstep…"

Hermione giggled a little. She should have known Harry would be relieved and not upset that she'd had to leave the manor. She stepped inside and he led her into the living room.

"Tea?" he offered.

"No, I've just had coffee, I'm fine."

"Good, because I didn't feel like making it anyway…" Harry smiled, and he sat down across from her.

"So. What happened?"

Hermione sighed.

"It wasn't easy…"

"To be there or to leave?" Harry asked.

"Toward the end… both," she said. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"That's cryptic."

She sighed again.

"I know. But it's… complicated…"

"I've got all day."

She gave him a sad smile and knew that was exactly why she loved him. Even if he didn't understand, he was always there to listen.

* * *

By the time she finished her story, Harry was speechless.

"Well?" she asked.

Harry seemed to be struggling with himself mentally.

"So… he was a right old prick at first… no surprise…"

"Yes."

"But then he got nicer and started treating you and his son better."

"Yes."

"And then you… dear Merlin… _slept_ with him?"

Hermione sighed heavily before replying, "Yes."

Harry shook his head. "And then he disappears for over a week… and brings home a girlfriend he's had for a year?"

Hermione nodded.

"What a slimy git…" Harry said.

"Yes, you've said that already… several times…" Hermione reminded him.

"Right. Anyway. So this girl is apparently gorgeous, and madly in love with him…"

"Right."

"Sure she's not just in love with his money?"

"Unless she's looking to expand her own plenteous fortune, I'd think not…"

"Yeah, well, we'll see… but then Malfoy has this party in her honor…"

"Uh huh," Hermione affirmed.

"And she comes to you out of nowhere, claims Malfoy is in love with you and that you're in love with him and basically tells you to sod off?"

"It was a little better worded than that but essentially… yes."

Harry stared.

"Hermione, that lady is off her rocker."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Right before she left my room… she told me that I was really self-sacrificing for leaving the way I was… and that I was obviously a very powerful witch… 'even though I was muggle-born,'" she quoted.

"Wait."

"What?"

"She made a snide remark about your bloodline?"

"I wouldn't call it snide really… more like an observation…"

"But a remark nonetheless," Harry pressed.

Hermione nodded.

"Don't you find that an odd comment?"

"Not really, not after growing up with far worse… many wizards and witches are still prejudiced against the 'lesser' bloodlines, Harry, you know that…"

"But do you think she just wanted you out of the house because she didn't want a muggle-born teaching her potential future son?"

Hermione considered this for a moment.

"Harry, that's ridiculous…"

"Is it?"

Hermione was silent again.

"She made it very clear that she wanted me out because of mine and Draco's apparent love for each other."

Harry looked calculating.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Harry."

"How _do_ you feel about Malfoy?"

She answered with pensive silence.

"Hermione?"

"I… Harry, I just don't know…"

"Well. Do you honestly think he _does_ love you?"

"No," she answered quickly. Too quickly.

"Really, Hermione? Honestly?"

She thought for a moment. In the last two months he'd treated her better than he ever had in the first seven years she'd known him. He'd given her money to buy herself nice things, even though he was paying her a salary. He'd kissed her and slept with her that night, even though he certainly wasn't lonely because he had a girlfriend away in France. He'd told her she was his friend, that she had made the manor a home. He said she had been the best thing to happen to Scorpius. He'd invited her to join the ball even though she was only a governess. He'd danced with her. He'd kissed her almost under Michelle's nose.

What had happened when she'd left?

"Hermione?"

"I… think it might be possible… that perhaps, there might be something there beyond friendship… though I do not know if it is anything close to love…"

Harry looked at her for a moment.

"And you? How do you feel?"

Hermione was quiet again. Could she honestly say she loved Draco?

Why else would she be in tears over the fact that she'd left, that she'd felt she had to leave, that she'd been trapped and had no choice?

She looked at Harry. He gazed back calmly.

"I… Harry… I don't…"

"If you love him, you certainly can't stay here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that it's doing you no good here running away from it. You have to go back. You have to face it. Face him. You can't just run away. That's not the Hermione I know."

"But Harry… Michelle… Scorpius…"

"Michelle can go throw herself off of Big Ben for all I care. She's a no good slimy witch of a woman and clearly not a good option for a mother for Scorpius. Even you can see that."

Hermione was quiet.

"Hermione Granger doesn't run away from her problems. She never has, and she never will," Harry finished.

Hermione stood up and began pacing.

"Harry, what on earth could I do? What could I say? 'Hello Draco, I'm madly in love with you and I've come back to see if you feel the same?' He wouldn't dare do anything that would jeopardize his relationship with Michelle. She's a perfect match for him. High class, beautiful, wealthy… to admit he loved me would be admitting he was attracted to someone beneath him."

"You said yourself that Malfoy lives in the country because he hates his social status and responsibility. What makes you think he'd care about loving someone of a lesser class?"

"But Harry, I'm a muggle-born!"

Harry stood up.

"Haven't you realized by now that that clearly doesn't matter to him? Hermione, why would he even have hired you if he cared about your blood?"

Hermione was taken aback by this outburst. Why did Harry care so much?

He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Hermoine. I just hate seeing you be so down on yourself. You're an amazing witch, you know that."

"Intelligent and powerful, perhaps…"

"No, Hermione. Amazing. As your best friend, I can say that I've watched you turn from a bossy know-it-all to an amazing woman. You're more than just a witch. You're a human. A human with human wants, needs, and desires. With human feelings and emotions."

He paused.

"And as much as we'd all like to think that Malfoy is just a pretty prick of a robot, he's a human, too," Harry finished. Hermione could tell that saying that had been a little painful for him.

The weight of what he'd just said made Hermione sink back down onto the sofa.

"Harry…"

He sat down next to her and took her hands in his.

"Hermione Granger, I love you. Probably way more than Malfoy does. But unfortunately, the kind of love I've got is different."

She gazed at him curiously.

"You're my best friend. If it weren't for you I can honestly say I'd probably be dead. I love you dearly, Hermione, with everything I've got… but as a friend. Draco doesn't have a whole lot of emotion to give, but from what you've told me, I'd bet all the galleons in Gringotts that whatever emotion he has, he's got invested in a love for you, and not as just a friend. He loves _you_, not that pathetic woman that's living in his house."

Hermione's breath caught. This was one of the most emotional things Harry had ever said to her. After the emotional hell she'd been through in the last few weeks… it was relieving to be able to fall back to Harry's loyalty.

"Harry… Oh, Harry…" she said, then buried her head in his shoulder... and cried.


	12. Some Kinda Good Kinda Hold On Me

**Author's Note:** Check the blog for a gorgeous picture I posted this morning of the snow, and a photo related to this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

_Some Kinda Good Kinda Hold On Me_

* * *

"She's _gone?_" Scorpius shouted. Draco was sure that even Dmitry and Davius heard him in the kitchens.

It was the morning after Hermione's departure, and Draco had not been looking forward to informing Scorpius of her absence. This had been why.

"Yes, Scorpius. Hermione has left. She's had to go back home to take care of her sick mother."

"Hermione's home is _here_!" he shouted. Draco hadn't seen him this fired up in a long time.

_Not since Hermione came here…_ a little voice in his head reminded him.

"No, Scorpius, it is not," Draco said firmly. "She lived here for a while, but she came from somewhere else first. She has a mother who needs her."

"_I need her more!_" he yelled. Draco sighed heavily. There would be no helping this…

"Scorpius, if you can't behave, I'm going to have to keep you in your room all morning."

"_No!_" he shouted. "I'm supposed to be having lessons with Hermione!"

"Scorpius," Draco said, trying very hard to keep his voice even. "You cannot have lessons with Hermione this morning. Hermione is not here. I will have to search for a new governess for you."

"I don't _want_ another governess! I want Hermione!"

Draco would lose his temper very soon, he knew it.

"Scorpius, I need you to go in your room and not come out until you can talk to me civilly," Draco said stiffly.

"_No!_" Scorpius shouted again, and he did an abrupt about-face to run away and…

…disappeared.

Draco's jaw dropped.

"Scorpius!" he shouted, panicking. His son had just apparated. Without realizing it. At six years old. Where could he possibly have gone?

"Scorpius!" he shouted again, and Michelle came running out to him from the bedroom.

"Draco, what's the matter?" she asked.

"Scorpius! He's gone! Disappeared before my eyes! Apparated!"

Michelle stared at him for a moment.

"Scorpius has apparated? Draco that's impossible…"

"Apparently not!" Draco yelled, facing her. "My son just disappeared right in front of me after turning around sharply. What does that sound like to you if not apparition!"

"I… I'm not sure, Draco…"

"Exactly. He's just apparated to God knows where!" He paused. "Dmitry! Davius!" he called. They appeared before him immediately.

"Yes, master?" they said together.

"We have heard you and the young master shouting," said the first.

"Is something wrong?" asked the second.

"Yes!" Draco shouted. "Scorpius is missing! He's apparated by accident!"

"Sir?" they chorused together incredulously.

"_Find him!_" Draco yelled, and the two Orhommes disappeared immediately.

He was panting.

"Draco…"

"What!" he snapped. Michelle touched his arm.

"Come now, let's go outside… you need to calm down…"

He was silent.

"Draco…"

"Fine."

She led him out to the back gardens and they sat down on a bench together. He was still fuming.

"Draco, please, be calm. Dmitry and Davius will find him."

Draco knew that they would, they had never let him down with anything before and they possessed a lot of magical power, ability, and intuition.

However, he was still a parent who had just lost his son. He was bound to go a little crazy.

* * *

Dmitry and Davius did not keep Draco waiting long. It had been an agonizing half an hour before they appeared in front of he and Michelle in the back gardens, each of them holding one of Scorpius's arms. Draco stood up immediately.

"Where did you find him?"

"Frolicking about in the west gardens, sir," said the first Orhomme.

"He'd caught a rabbit, sir," added the second.

Of course.

Draco leaned down and picked Scorpius up. He held him tightly and Scorpius squirmed.

"Never…_ ever_… do that to me again," he said, not letting him go.

"I didn't _mean_ to, Father…" Scorpius mumbled.

"You are staying right here in the back gardens and _clearly in my sight_ for the rest of the day, do you understand me? And for heaven's sake stop terrorizing the rabbits…"

"Yes, Father…" Scorpius said as Draco put him down. He dashed off into the gardens, staying a fair distance away but always looking back to make sure Draco could still at least see him.

Draco sighed, and then sank back down onto the bench. Michelle took his hand.

"I nearly had a heart attack," he said, looking at his knees.

"I could tell," Michelle said. "Your concern and love for him is quite obvious."

"It would kill me to lose him," Draco admitted. "And it would kill me to raise him without a proper mother."

Michelle was silent, staring at him.

He looked up and met her gaze.

"Michelle, I've put it off long enough," he began, and pulled out his wand.

A square velvet box appeared in his hand.

"I love you, and I know you will be a good mother to Scorpius." He opened the box, revealing a stunning platinum ring set with a one carat diamond with a half carat diamond on either side.

"Will you marry me?"

* * *

"Oi! Harry!"

Hermione heard Ron's voice coming from the entryway. She looked up at Harry curiously, her eyes red and her cheeks tear streaked.

"He usually just lets himself in…" Harry explained guiltily. "In here, Ron!" he called back. Hermione buried her face in Harry's shoulder again.

"Ah! I just wanted to—" Ron stopped abruptly as he came around the corner of the room and saw Hermione hugging Harry's arm like it was her last string of life.

"Hermione?" he asked curiously.

"What, Ron…" she mumbled into Harry's arm.

"I… What are you doing here? Thought you were over at Malfoy Manor?" he asked, totally bewildered.

She sniffled. "I was. I just came back last night."

Ron put some uninformed pieces together and suddenly blurted out, "What did the git do to you? I'll go over there and give him a piece of my mind…"

Hermione sat up suddenly and looked at him. "No!" she said quickly.

"Dear Merlin, what _did_ he do to you?" Ron exclaimed, seeing Hermione's tears. "Hermione, come here, good Lord…" he stepped over to her and sat down on her other side. She turned to him and wrapped her arms around him, now crying into his shoulder. Ron held her awkwardly while he gave Harry a questioning stare.

"It's a long story…" Harry said. "She's… had a rough few weeks…"

"I can see that," Ron said, glancing down at the crying woman in her arms. Hermione knew that neither of them had seen her this upset since her father had died eight years previously. She was stuck in some strange love triangle and had no idea what to do about it.

_Why_ would she be crying so much if she wasn't truly in love with Draco?

At this thought, she sat straight up.

"I have to go back," she said. Ron's confused "What?" came at the same time as Harry's "I know."

"What do you mean, 'go back'?" Ron asked. "You've just come home and you're crying your bloody eyes out…"

Hermione sniffled and wiped at her tears before Harry handed her her wand.

"Right, thanks," she said quietly, and performed a few spells until she'd returned her countenance to normal.

"Hermione, I'm a little lost…" Ron said, staring at her.

"Oh, Ron," she said, smiling at him and standing. "You're always a little lost, aren't you?"

Before she could hear his reply she'd turned on her heel to apparate back to her mother's.

Her mother was a little startled when Hermione appeared in the kitchen. Her mother had been sitting at the table reading the paper.

"Hermione!" she cried. "Goodness, you scared me… Back so soon? I thought you'd be gone more than just a few hours."

Hermione beamed.

"Harry and I have just had a most wonderful talk, Mother…"

Her mother regarded her curiously, and a little suspiciously.

"And…?"

"And I've decided to go back to the Manor."

Her mother was speechless.

"Mother?"

"Hermione, you're really going to need to fill me in here," her mother said, reeling a little. "You come home late last night and collapse in my arms crying, you're depressed this morning, and then have a talk with Harry and suddenly you're desperate to go back to the place that's upset you so much? What's gotten into you!"

Hermione still smiled.

"Mother I… I think I'm in love!" she exclaimed.

"In love with who?" her mother demanded.

"With Draco!" Hermione answered.

If it had been anyone else, Hermione would have laughed at the expression of absolute horror and bewilderment on her mother's face.

"Hermione, darling, are you not well?" her mother asked.

"Yes, Mother, I'm quite well," she answered. "I have to go back to the Manor and face my problems. I need to tell Draco how I feel and see if he feels the same way…"

"And if he doesn't?" her mother prodded.

"Then I stay on at Malfoy Manor as governess anyway, whether Draco stays with Michelle or not."

"Michelle?" asked her mother. "Who's Michelle?"

"Draco's giflfriend," Hermione explained quickly. "Sorry, Mother, but I have to go upstairs and pack!"

Hermione raced up the stairs and her mother stared after her, her mouth agape.

Her daughter had gone insane…

* * *

"Harry! She's completely off her rocker! She's unhinged!" Ron said, pacing around Harry's living room. Harry sat in his same spot on the couch, watching him.

"That happens to people when they're in love," Harry said, smiling.

"Harry, stop kidding yourself! She can't seriously be in love with Malfoy! And there's no way he loves her! She's setting herself up for heartbreak!"

Harry had filled Ron in on the story after Hermione's departure.

"Maybe she is, maybe she isn't," Harry said. "But I'm not going to stand by and watch her be miserable while she wonders 'what if?' for the rest of her life."

Ron glared at him.

"Ron, you can't protect her forever."

"Says who?" he countered.

"Says me, and says her," he replied. "It's not fair to her, Ron. You're her best friend, not her father. If this is a huge mistake, then let her make it. It's better than if she tortures herself for the rest of her life wondering if _staying here_ was the biggest mistake of her life."

Ron was not convinced.

"Ron, she's a grown woman," Harry said.

"I know that, Harry."

"Then you need to stop treating her like we're all still seventeen."

Ron sighed deeply.

"I suppose you're right, Harry…" he started. "I just worry about her…"

"I do, too," Harry said. "She'll let us know if anything is wrong."

"I sure hope so…"

* * *

Hermione arrived outside the front gates of Malfoy Manor in the bright sunlight of mid-afternoon. She called for Dmitry and Davius and they appeared beside her immediately.

"_Mademoiselle!_" they chorused together. Hermione beamed.

"You have returned!" said the first.

"We have missed you dreadfully!" exclaimed the second.

"I'm only been gone one night…" she said.

"One night too long!" said the first.

"How can we serve you?" asked the second.

"Where is Scorpius?" she asked.

"Playing in the back gardens, mademoiselle," answered the first.

"May I take your trunk to your room?" asked the second.

"You may," she said, smiling at him. He smiled back, grabbed her trunk, and disappeared with it.

"Would you like me to take you to the young master?" asked the remaining.

"That would be lovely," she answered.

"To the back gardens, then, mademoiselle!" he said, and she took his hand and suddenly she found herself on the edge of the back gardens. She saw Scorpius ahead of her attempting to scale a tree.

"Call should you need anything!" said the Orhomme, and he disappeared. Hermione watched Scorpius for a moment before beginning to jog toward him. He turned around on a branch, caught sight of Hermione, and fell from the tree in surprise.

Draco had been mindlessly watching Scorpius climb a cherry tree when he saw him suddenly fall. His mind jerked into overgear and he stood up quickly – but before he could even draw his wand, Scorpius had frozen in mid air.

"What on earth…" Draco said.

"What is it, Draco?" Michelle asked, but then she, too, saw Scorpius suspended halfway between the tree and the ground. "Oh, my… his magic truly is powerful, isn't it?" she said.

"Hang on a moment," Draco said, watching closer. Scorpius was indeed suspended in mid air, but not frozen. He was moving and squirming and shouting something… and laughing… Draco watched as Scorpius was slowly lowered to the ground until he was standing on his own two feet and then heard him shout…

"Hermione! Hermione! You're back!"

Draco watched, unbelieving, as Scorpius ran away from the tree and right into the arms of his governess, who was stowing her wand.

"Draco…" Michelle said. There was an edge to her voice. Draco was silent.

Hermione had drawn her wand quick as a flash and used a simple levitation spell to keep Scorpius from hitting the ground. He had run up to her and thrown himself into her arms. She'd picked him up and spun him around and held him there close to her.

"I knew you weren't leaving for good! I just knew it!"

She just smiled at him, then looked up and saw Draco and Michelle watching her from the patio.

"I think we need to let your father know I've returned," she said quietly. He nodded his head vigorously in agreement and she put him down and led him to the patio by the hand. Draco stepped down the patio steps to meet her.

"Hello, Hermione," he said warmly.

"Hello, Draco."

"I had hoped you were not truly gone forever…"

She smiled meekly.

"Is your mother faring well, then?"

Hermione suddenly remembered the lie she'd told in her letter.

"Yes… I mean, she's… she thought that I could do far more good for Scorpius here than I could ever do for her at home," she explained. Scorpius beamed up at her.

"Guess what I did this morning!"

Hermione looked down at him. "What did you do?"

"_I apparated!_" he exclaimed.

"You did _what_?" she gasped, then looked at Draco. He gave her an embarrassed smile.

"He really did," he affirmed. "Turned on his heel and disappeared. Dmitry and Davius finally found him in the west side gardens."

"Well aren't you a precocious little thing…" Hermione said to Scorpius. Scorpius, not knowing what 'precocious' meant, remained silent.

"You've actually returned just in time for the news, both of you," Draco said, walking back up on the patio steps toward Michelle. He took her hand and helped her to her feet.

"As of this morning, Michelle and I are engaged to be married."


	13. A Little Too Late

**Author's Note:** Don't forget about the blog! :D And wow guys... over 200 people on the Story Alert List... and we're pushing 200 reviews, too!

* * *

**Chapter 13**

_A Little Too Late_

* * *

_Engaged… to be… married?_

Hermione felt her stomach literally disappear.

They were already engaged.

She was too late.

She'd come back for nothing.

"Married?" came Scorpius's hesitant voice from below her.

No, no she hadn't come back for _nothing_, she reminded herself. Scorpius needed her. At least for now. The look of joy on Scorpius's face when she wrapped him up in her arms was one she would never forget.

"Yes, Scorpius," said Draco. "Engaged to be married. Michelle is going to be your mother."

Hermione, unable to look at Draco, looked down at Scorpius instead. He seemed positively frozen, just like one of his rabbits. She couldn't tell if he was scared, confused, angry… or any combination of the three… or none of them at all.

Draco, realizing that Scorpius was a little shocked and he shouldn't expect a response from him just yet, looked at Hermione.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at him.

"You've returned to the manor to stay?" he asked.

Hermione swallowed hard.

"Only until another governess can be found," she answered stiffly. Scorpius, upon hearing this, forced his hand out of Hermione's and ran at top speed toward the west side of the house.

"Scorpius!" shouted Draco and Hermione together. Draco started to step down off the patio after him but Herimone held up her hand.

"No. You stay. I'll go."

Draco wanted to argue but he knew that Scorpius would be more receptive to Hermione, so he let her run after him instead.

Scorpius had a running start so it took Hermione a few minutes to finally reach him. She found him underneath an oak tree, his knees held to his chest while he cried.

Hermione's heart broke.

She walked up to him slowly and sat down gingerly next to him.

"Scorpius?"

He sniffled.

"Scorpius, what's wrong?" she asked quietly, touching his shoulder.

"Everything!" he sobbed. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and he snuggled into her side.

"That's a very broad answer," she said. "Why don't you talk to me…"

He sniffled again.

"Father is marrying Michelle," he moaned.

"I know," she said, and her heart wrenched painfully.

"I don't _want_ him too!" he cried. Hermione looked at him curiously.

"I thought you liked Michelle?" she asked him.

"No!" he said, between hiccups. "She's… bossy… and she's mean… and she's only nice on the outside… inside she's all rotten!" he wailed.

"Scorpius, where in the world are you coming up with this!"

Another hefty sniffle.

"I've heard her talking… talking to Father…" he started. "She talks bad about me…"

Hermione's sadness was turning to anger, now.

"What do you mean, Scorpius? What does she say?"

"She says that my… my magic is too powerful… that Father needs to… to reign it in…"

Hermine thought about this a little.

"Scorpius, you _are_ very powerful," Hermione said. "And some day that will be a good thing, but you need to learn to at least control it… are you sure that's not what Michelle meant?"

Scorpius shook his head vigorously.

"She made it sound like Father should try to take it away…"

"And what did your father say? Did you hear what he said?"

"No," Scorpius sniffled. "I ran away before they could see me…"

Hermione was calculating.

"What else has she said?"

"She thinks I'm… that I'm bad…"

"Bad? Like an improper child?" Hermione asked.

Scorpius nodded.

"Oh, Scorpius…" Hermione said. "You're not a bad kid at all… You're a promising young wizard who's improving his skill and knowledge every day. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, but you're not a bad child."

He looked up at her with red and puffy eyes. "Really?"

"Really. I've never thought you were some sort of hopeless case that couldn't be helped."

Scorpius hiccupped and smiled, then buried his face in her side again.

"Are you _really_ going to leave again?" He sniffled. "I don't want another governess…"

Hermione was touched.

"I don't know, Scorpius. It depends on a lot of things."

"_Please_ stay," he begged her, looking up at her again. "_Please_."

Hermione smiled sadly.

"I will stay so long as your father still wants me here."

"Promise?" he asked.

"I promise."

* * *

_Harry,_

_How could you have let me be so dreadfully stupid… I was hardly gone twenty-four hours, but when I returned, Draco announced that he and Michelle are now officially engaged. If I needed any more proof that Draco isn't in love with me, that was it._

_On another hand, if I needed any further proof that I am indeed in love with him… that sure did it. It's been a long, long time since I've ever felt so devastated…_

_But I certainly didn't come back for nothing. I've realized how much Scorpius needs me. He's so upset that Michelle is to be his new mother… he hates her, he thinks she's an awful woman. How could I desert him when he needs someone who won't look down on him the way she does? It makes me wonder how Draco can turn a blind eye to that. I've promised Scorpius that I will stay here as long as Draco wants me here, and I'm going to hold that promise. Like you said to me earlier, Hermione Granger doesn't run from her problems. There's something going on here that's bigger than just me, and that's the raising of a child._

_I can only hope that Michelle doesn't pull a stunt on Draco like she did to me. Merlin knows he'd probably do anything she asked him, but I certainly hope he's stronger-willed than that._

_What I can't figure out is that Draco seemed honestly happy with my return… the same sort of happy he was when he and I were dancing on the patio and when he and I were shopping in Hogsmeade…_

_Or maybe I'm just reading into things too much._

_Either way. For Scorpius's sake, I'm glad I've returned. It might be breaking my own heart but at least I'll be preventing his from being hardened._

_All my love,_

_Hermione._

She read the letter over again once before deciding that it needed no corrections and sealed it carefully.

The twilight sun was shining into her room. She's spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening up here – she'd even skipped dinner – just thinking about everything. Eventually, she'd decided to simply pen a letter to Harry and let it rest. Nothing could be changed, now. Scorpius was genuinely happy to have her back, and Draco was at least putting on a front of happiness, and that was all she really needed.

After addressing the letter, she got up from her desk and opened her door to find Scorpius standing there in his pajamas poised to knock.

"Scorpius!" she said. "What did you need?"

"I just wanted to ask you to read with me before I went to sleep…" he said quietly. "I told Father and Michelle that I didn't want them to."

Hermione glanced at her bedroom clock and saw that it was almost 7:30.

"Tell you what, Scorpius," she started. "I have to go up to the attic to fetch an owl to send this letter. Why don't you walk with me and we can talk instead of reading?"

He smiled. "All right." Hermione shut the door behind them and they began leisurely walking up to the attic.

"Why did you come back, Hermione?" Scorpius asked. "Father said you were gone forever."

Hermione answered carefully.

"I came back because I knew you'd miss me," she said, smiling down at him. "And I missed you, too."

He smiled back. "Well, I'm glad you did. I _did_ miss you," he admitted sheepishly.

"I'm glad to hear that," Hermione said. "Coming back would have been totally pointless if you hadn't wanted me to!"

Scorpius paused.

"But what about Father?" he asked.

"What about him?"

"Well… he always says that he makes all the choices… did he ask you to come back?" Scorpius asked.

"No, he didn't."

Scorpius was silent. He seemed confused.

"You see, Scorpius, not only did I know that you would miss me, but I also had a feeling that your father wanted me back here, as well."

"We had a fight this morning," Scorpius said.

"Oh?" Hermione asked.

"I was mad at him that he'd told me you were gone… that's when I apparated by accident…"

"Did he seem upset at all?" Hermione couldn't help asking.

"I don't know," Scorpius admitted. "He was too busy trying to stop me yelling."

By now they had arrived in the attic and Hermione was calling down an owl to use.

"Who is your letter for?" Scorpius asked curiously.

"A friend," Hermione replied, smiling at him.

"Which friend?" Scorpius pressed.

"His name is Harry."

"Harry who?"

Hermione chucked to herself at the curiosity of children.

"Harry Potter."

Based on Scorpius's lack of a surprised expression, Hermione guessed that Scorpius hadn't been taught about the War by anyone yet.

"Harry Potter is actually a very important person in history," Hermione said.

"Really?" asked Scorpius, wide-eyed.

"Really. Would you like to start learning about wizarding history in our lessons? I'll tell you all about him."

"Sure!" Scorpius said.

"Wonderful," Hermione replied, sending the owl off out the window. "Now, I think it's time for someone to go to bed…" she said, giving Scorpius a sly glance.

"Do I have to?" he whined.

"Yes," she said firmly. "You know your father doesn't like it when you're up past eight."

He pouted.

"That look's not going to work on me and you know it," Hermione said, and she walked quickly over to him and picked him up.

"Hey!"

"Downstairs we go…" said Hermione, smiling as she walked down the old, spiraling attic stairs. To make sure he didn't try to get away, she carried him all the way to his room before dropping him lightly on the bed. When she checked her watch, it was 7:55.

"Look at that, we even had five minutes to spare," she said, tucking him into his covers.

Scorpius tried – and failed – to stifle a yawn.

"See? Look at how tired you are…" she said, sitting down next to him on the bed.

"No I'm… not…" he said, yawning again. Hermione smiled.

"I'll see you in the morning, Scorpius."

"You promise you're not going to go anywhere?" he asked, staring at her with half-open eyes. Hermione kissed his forehead.

"I promise."

"Good…" he mumbled, and his eyes closed completely. Hermione extinguished the lamp with her wand and got up quietly, turning around to tip-toe out of the room…

And saw Draco standing in the doorway, watching her.

Her heart skipped and started fluttering. No amount of mental scolding helped.

Not wanting to disturb Scorpius, she waited until she had crept out of his room and closed the door before addressing him.

"Yes, Draco?" she asked.

"I just can't get over how good you are with Scorpius," he admitted quietly. Hermione shrugged.

"Most women come equipped with a natural maternal instinct."

"That may be so," Draco said, "but you and Scorpius just seem to… connect."

_Then why am I not the one wearing that huge diamond on my finger?_ Hermione couldn't help but to think. She chased the thought away.

"I'm glad you approve of how I act with Scorpius," was all she said.

There was a pause.

"Hermione, why did you come back?" he asked.

"I came back for Scorpius," she answered firmly. "It wasn't fair to leave him that way."

"It wasn't fair to leave me to pick up the pieces, either," Draco said. Hermione shifted guiltily.

"I know, and I'm sorry," she said. "I'm back now and I'll do the picking up for you."

Draco paused, then pulled her into a hug. A hug? They'd never done that… loving embraces, yes… but not a legitimate _hug_…

"I'm glad you're back," he said, pulling away. "Really."

"I'm glad to be back," she answered. She paused, then, "Where's Michelle?"

"Bathing," he answered. Hermione tried not to picture how much more beautiful Michelle must look like naked, and tried harder not to think about the fact that Draco surely preferred Michelle's body over hers.

"She hasn't left my side all day," he admitted. "After you returned she became exceedingly clingy." If she hadn't been busy in the bathroom right now, Draco thought to himself, she never would have let him alone long enough to talk to Hermione.

Hermione was silent.

"It seems as if she is displeased with your return, though she won't admit it…"

The brief, crazy thought occurred to Hermione of telling Draco everything that had happened the night before – had it really been only the previous night? – with Michelle and what she'd said to her… but then realized that that would be possibly the most foolish thing she could ever think to do and let it stay in her head.

"It's probably just an irrational jealousy," Hermione reasoned to him. "Though you have been with Michelle for some time, I have been at Malfoy Manor longer than she has been staying here. It could be just an animal instinct for territorialism."

Draco shook his head at his flashback to their Hogwarts years. Hermione noticed this as he smiled.

"What?" she demanded.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you…" he said, smirking at her.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" she pressed.

He just kept smirking.

"Malfoy, I swear if you don't wipe that slimy smirk off your face…"

"What did you just call me?" he asked, nearly laughing.

Hermione recounted what she'd said in her mind and gasped, holding a hand up to her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"Oh, good Lord… I just used your surname…"

Draco's smirk turned to a smile and he shook his head at her. "Granger, you've got to keep your head in the present…"

Hermione smiled when he used _her_ surname.

"Slimy git."

"Bossy know-it-all."

"Slytherin prick."

"Dirty mudblood."

Hermione never thought she'd see the day when she was trying to hold in hysterical laughter while being called names by Draco Malfoy…

He was smirking again.

"What did I say about that smirk?" she asked playfully.

"All I recall is an unfinished threat," he said. "Something like, 'if you don't wipe that slimy smirk off your face…'"

He stepped closer to her and she stepped backward. She felt the wall behind her.

"So? What if I don't wipe this slimy smirk off my face?" he asked, taking another step. Hermione had hit the wall and could back up no further.

"I… was going to say…" she breathed, having trouble finding words as Draco put a hand on either side of her, leaning his weight into the wall and bearing down on her, "that… if you didn't wipe the smirk off your face… that I would… take it off there for you…"

"Oh?" he said softly. "And how would you do that…"

"I was actually planning on a _Confundus_ charm—" but she was cut off by the striking feeling of his lips on hers.

This was no quick kiss like down on the patio and not a tender kiss like the night by the bookshelf. This was hot, passionate, and needy. Every careful barrier Hermione had been constructing since that afternoon toppled before her. She let him in easily, kissing him back with everything she had, hoping in vain that this was perhaps his way of telling her that Michelle was nothing to him, that he was going to send her packing… She clutched at his shirt while his hands ran through her hair and he pressed himself against her…

And then, quite suddenly, he pulled away, leaving them both out of breath. They both tried to speak at once.

"Hermione—"

"Draco—"

Hermione quieted and waited.

"Hermione… I… I'm sorry… I shouldn't have…"

"Yes… you're right…" she answered quietly.

They were still staring into each other's eyes.

"Forgive me," he said, and abruptly turned and walked down the east wing to his room. Hermione couldn't bear to look after him and shut her eyes when she heard the sound of his door close.

He'd left her, panting, out of breath, and hot with desire… in the middle of the east corridor… just outside his son's room… before he went to go help his fiancée out of the bathtub…

_Damn_ you, Draco Malfoy, she thought helplessly. _Damn you._


	14. Pick 'Em Up And Lay 'Em Down

Author's note: After reading the chapter check the blog for another related picture. Also don't forget to keep checking up on it for announcements and tidbits from me!

* * *

**Chapter 14**

_Pick 'Em Up And Lay 'Em Down_

* * *

It had been a week since Hermione's return. From the way Draco had been acting, Hermione was sure that the kiss in the corridor had been purely accidental, had meant nothing, and he had totally forgotten about it.

It was, of course, the complete opposite for her, but she'd had to pretend the same.

Scorpius was now so avidly interested in wizarding history that Hermione had to force him to focus on the other portions of his studies, too. Hermione taught him history like she was telling a story in order to keep him interested but apparently that plan had backfired because he now begged for "the next part of the story" every morning.

She had, as promised, told him about Harry Potter and had given him a brief summary of the War. Not wanting Scorpius to ask too many questions, she left out Draco, herself, Narcissa, and any other characters besides, essentially, Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Harry.

As she had been recounting the story, her stomach had sickened when she remembered the day she'd been trapped here in the manor, tortured by Bellatrix as she tried to extract information from her that she did not have.

If she was silent in the dining room long enough, she could still hear her own screams… could see Draco standing by in the corner, watching, disgusted…

"Hermione?"

She was startled by Scorpius's small voice.

"Are you all right?" he asked, scooting closer to her. "You seem sad." He hugged her and Hermione wanted to cry at his simple innocence.

"Yes, Scorpius, I'm fine," she said, hugging him back.

"Are you sure? What's wrong?"

"I'm just having some bad and scary memories, that's all," she said. "Don't worry. I'm fine. It's the past and it can't hurt me now."

His silver eyes – so very like his father's – stared up at her until he was sure she would be all right.

"Maybe someday I'll tell you," she said. "But for now we need to move on to French…"

"Ugh!" Scorpius groaned.

"Scorpius, you used to love learning French! What's happened?"

"_She's_ French," he said. He had stopped referring to Michelle by her name around Hermoine. He only called her "she."

Hermione sighed. "I know, dear, but learning another language is very important for a young boy. It helps you to be well rounded and cultured."

"Well, then, I don't want to be… well-rounded and… cultured…" he said, crossing his arms.

"Scorpius, Michelle isn't the only French woman in the world," she reminded him. "What if you go to France someday and have to talk to a stranger? Won't you want to know what to say?"

"I'm never going to France!" he said hotly. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Even if it's just you and me?" she asked.

"Then you can talk and I won't have to," he countered.

He was clearly determined.

"Scorpius, you can't let something so small keep you from an entire subject in your lessons. We're doing a French lesson today, and that's that."

Scorpius scowled.

"How about we start learning some French adjectives," she suggested. "You remember what an adjective is, right?"

"A word that describes a noun…" he grumbled.

"Right. The French have adjectives just like we do in English."

Silence.

Well, if Scorpius was determined, then Hermione was determined, too. She didn't like Michelle any more than Scorpius did – perhaps even less than Scorpius did – but that wasn't going to keep Hermione from speaking or teaching French. Michelle had hardly said two sentences to Hermione in the entire week she'd been back and Hermione was perfectly fine with that. She figured that, eventually, it would be water under the bridge and she and Michelle could be civil again.

Until then, she could just take her leave from Hermione's good graces and be happy with it.

Draco wasn't helping at all. The fiery kiss they'd shared just after she'd returned was still hot in her mind – and other places. She just couldn't figure him out. He has a serious girlfriend, then sleeps with Hermione. He has a ball in honor of said serious girlfriend… and then kisses Hermione behind her back. He gets _engaged_ to the same serious girlfriend, and the moment she's not looking, ravishes Hermione's mouth in the middle of a corridor.

Seriously Draco? _What the fuck?_

She had devoted almost all of her energy to Scorpius since she'd returned. He was as delightful as he always was most of the time – until the French language, his father's French fiancée, French food, or really anything at all having to do with France was mentioned. He had even snapped at Dmitry once for speaking to him in French.

Draco had noticed this and brought it up to Hermione that Scorpius seemed to be unhappy with Michelle. Hermione had replied that she knew very well and that she would try her utmost to make him see sense.

And she had, she truly had, but Scorpius was a very stubborn child and if he really didn't want something, he wasn't going to have it.

Hermione took a deep breath to calm her own angry mind before pulling out her wand and conjuring up a sheet of basic French adjectives and their translations.

"Scorpius…"

"No."

"Scorpius, your father will be very unhappy to hear that you are neglecting one of your subjects."

"I don't care."

"You may not, but I do. Your father will be unhappy with _me_ for not teaching you properly."

Silence. She had a feeling that would prod him at least a little bit.

"You don't want your father mad at _me_, do you?"

"No…" he said finally.

"And neither do I. Your father being angry is not a pleasant thing."

"Right…"

"And who knows. He might get so mad that he will want to send me home…"

"No!" cried Scorpius.

"Well then," said Hermione, handing him the parchment of adjectives, "as a safety measure to make sure that doesn't happen, how about we work on some French, hmm?"

Scorpius gave her a deer-in-the-headlights look as he realized he was backed into a corner.

"Fine… but _only_ because I don't want you to leave…"

* * *

It was 8:30.

The last rays of daylight were disappearing through the forest on the west edge of the Malfoy property. Hermione was watching them from her balcony outside her room, doing what Hermione Granger did best.

Thinking.

As the last of the daylight disappeared, she decided she wanted to go for a walk. She always thought better when she was moving. It was why she'd spent so many late nights pacing the Gyffindor common room while thinking of everything from her next Potions paper to how to get Harry out of whatever thicket of trouble he was in at the time.

Even as she was thinking these things, her feet were carrying her out of her room, down the grand staircase, and into the back gardens. She soon found herself wandering to the east side of the house, where it was darker, and into the east side gardens. She was so absorbed in thought that she didn't even realize she was very near the balcony leading off of Draco's room.

She also didn't notice Draco leaning against the railing of said balcony, propped up on his elbows and lost in thoughts of his own.

He noticed Hermione as she came into view and watched her silently as she meandered through his gardens. Every so often she would stop to touch, to feel, to sense whatever was around her, and then she'd keep moving.

He was suddenly aware of Michelle at his side.

"So, I've been thinking about the wedding," she began.

Draco nodded in reply.

"I thought that maybe we could have it here at the manor, in the back gardens."

"Mhm."

"And perhaps we could have fairy lights for the reception," she continued.

He nodded again.

"And perhaps a grand troupe of dancing Veela…" she said. She was grasping at straws, Draco knew. He was so plainly uphappy that even a troll could notice.

"And, of course, in the nature of your home, I was hoping for green and silver as the color scheme…"

"Michelle. Stop."

She did. She stared down at the gardens and saw that he was looking at Hermione.

"I can't do this," he said.

"I know," she replied.

"I… wait, what?"

"I know," she repeated.

"What do you mean? Are you sure we're talking about the same thing?" he asked.

"Draco, we should have known for a long time that this wasn't going to work," she explained, turning and looking at him. He looked back. "We're just too different."

Draco said nothing.

"I mean, you long to be far away from everyone in the country and I long for people and parties and the city… and that's just not you, Draco."

"You're right, it's not."

"I'm dreadfully rich, Draco, and so are you. But all I care about is money. Truly, it's all that makes me happy. But it's not difficult to see that you live for something far beyond your fortune."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and she's walking down in that garden right now," Michelle said. Draco's gaze snapped up to Michelle.

"What do you mean?"

"I _mean_ that you love her. And she loves you, and wants you far more desperately than I ever could. I'm the reason she left, Draco. Not her mother."

Draco had no idea where any of this was coming from. Michelle had been clinging to him desperately all week… was it because she feared her imminent replacement by Hermione?

"I like you Draco. Perhaps even do love you. But there's a hundred more men out there just like you who will be far more eager for my fortune than you are. I'm not going to live with a man who doesn't want all I have to offer."

Was she seriously smiling? Genuinely smiling? Draco couldn't believe it. He'd thought she would scream, would cry, would threaten to kill him, would refuse to ever leave him…

But she was agreeing…

Even if for her own selfish desires, she was actually _agreeing_…

"I think I'm going to go pack my things," she said quietly. She kissed Draco on the cheek. "I don't think that governess of yours can wait much longer," was all she said before disappearing into his bedroom.

Draco, as if suddenly awakening from a stupor, snapped to attention and took the balcony stairs two at a time to get to the gardens. He'd lost track of where Hermione went while he was talking to Michelle, so it took him a while to find her. He eventually happened upon her sitting on a stone bench between two rose bushes.

"Hello, Hermione," he said quietly. She looked up at him, startled.

"Hello Draco," she replied.

"May I join you?" he asked.

She scooted over on the bench to make room for him and he sat beside her.

"Hermione, can I ask you something?"

She regarded him carefully.

"Sure…"

"Why did you really leave Malfoy Manor?"

She was silent for a moment before replying.

"I told you why. I had to take care of my mother."

"And yet you returned the very next day?" he countered. She bit her lip.

"I remember telling you that she thought I could do more good here than for her at home…"

"However true that might be," Draco said gently, "I don't think that particular conversation ever happened."

Silence.

"Are you sure, Hermione," he said, even more quietly, "that you did not leave Malfoy Manor because you were afraid you were in love with me, and afraid of having to compete with Michelle?"

Hermione looked up at him, shocked.

"How-?"

"Shh," he said, and gently placed a finger over her lips. "Tell me the truth, Hermione…" he whispered.

She avoided his gaze and stared instead at her knees.

"I left because I was afraid I was falling in love with you, and that if I wasn't careful I'd cause you to fall in love with me, too, and you'd lose Michelle."

Draco pondered this for a moment.

"Well, you've succeeded," he said. Hermione looked up at him slowly, calculating.

"Do you love me?" he asked, holding her chin in his hand.

"Yes… yes, I do… I love you…"

He moved his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and placed his hand gently on the back of her neck.

"Wonderful. Because I love you, too."

Hermione almost didn't get a chance to look shocked because he immediately pulled her into a kiss. After the first startling second she relaxed into him and snaked her arms around his neck, letting their tongues dance together. She felt the rhythm of his body, felt his heart beating with hers, felt his breath on her skin… It was the most earth shaking, perfectly wonderful and romantic kiss she had ever experienced. When he finally pulled away, she could think of only one thing.

"But… Michelle…"

"Is currently packing her things," Draco said. "We've broken off our engagement."

"You have? But… but you… She…"

"We have agreed that we are far too different to stay together," Draco finished for her. "I have known since the day you and I went shopping together in Hogsmeade that I loved you, or was at least starting to."

"Draco…"

"I thought I was in an arrangement I could not get out of. A potential wife of equal class, a mother for Scorpius, a partner for me… but soon I realized that she was none of those things, and that you were all of them.

"I…"

"Class is not about wealth or bloodline to me. Not anymore. It's about your ability to adapt and thrive, and you certainly have done both. Anyone who came into this house would never guess you were only my governess because you appear, act, and speak so much like a hostess."

"But…"

"Michelle, though she would have served as a legal maternal figure, could never mother Scorpius the way you do. I've never seen a child so taken with anyone as he is with you."

"Well…"

"And as for a partner for me… who better could I ask for than the brightest, cleverest, most beautiful witch of the age?"

Hermione had finally been rendered totally speechless.

"Hermione Granger, I love you," he said. "And I'm so sorry about everything that has happened during your stay here. Michelle is gone for good and neither of us ever have to see her again. If you like, for the rest of our lives, it will be just you, me, and Scorpius…"

Hermione's stomach was churning as she realized what he was saying. The rest of their lives?

He pulled out his wand and conjured up a box in his hand that had been sitting in a safe in the attic for some time. It was small and square, was plain white, and made of deteriorating cardboard.

Hermione watched curiously, her heart beating a mile a minute as he opened the fragile box and removed from it an antique velvet ring box.

"This was my grandmother's," he began, "but it will have to do until I can buy you your own…" he said. He then opened the box to reveal a stunning one carat marquis cut diamond surrounded by what seemed like dozens of smaller diamonds. It had to be at least half a century old.

"Hermione Granger, you are everything I could ever want in a wife and so much more, and I can't believe I was too blind to see it before. Will you do me the great honor of making me your husband?"


	15. Go With Her

Author's Note: **PLEASE READ THE BLOG AT spicysugar368 **_dot_** tumblr **_dot_** com** ! Many of you are posting reviews with questions and statements that would be MUCH better explained if you read it! I promise, it will benefit you! Also, **SoccerReader**, please read the blog for a response to the last review you left me!

On another hand, my deepest apologies for not updating yesterday! Football got in the way...

* * *

**Chapter 15**

_Go With Her_

* * *

Wife?

Husband?

_Married_?

Her mind was reeling. She felt as if every organ in her body had been taken out and then put somewhere else in her body that it didn't belong. Her stomach was in her toes, her nerves were all where her stomach should be, and her heart was in her throat…

Her voicebox, on the other hand, was nowhere to be found…

"Hermione…" he continued, "Will you marry me?"

Hermione was able to properly understand and analyze every word in that sentence except the important one. "Marry."

Clearly her brain had got up and run off with her voicebox, hence why she couldn't think or speak right then.

Earlier in the week when Draco had kissed her, her walls had tumbled down. Now, they were simply gone. Disappeared. Not even ruins. Not a single, lone, solitary pebble left of them. She was completely alone and vulnerable, in the middle of the Malfoy Manor gardens…

And the man she was in love with… the owner of those gardens… had just… proposed… marriage… to her?

Yes, _marriage_! Her brain shouted at her. _Marriage! Two people, together forever, the whole glorious thing!_

Good Lord… Draco Malfoy was asking her to _marry _him!

Jesus, Hermione, answer him! Answer! _Answer! ANSWER!_

And, quite suddenly, her brain and her voicebox both returned from their holiday (though her voicebox had to shove her heart out of the way since it was currently taking residence in her throat) and she was again rendered with the ability to process rational thought.

"Yes…" she said. "Yes… yes!" She smiled and Draco beamed.

"I'd hoped you would say that…" he said quietly, and he gently pulled the beautiful ring out of the box and slipped it into her finger.

"We can go out and search for another one tomorrow…"

"No," she cut him off. "This one is perfect… it's beautiful… You don't need to spend needless money to replace something so gorgeous…" She looked up at him to find him smiling.

"If you're sure," he said.

"Yes, absolutely…"

He kissed her again. She felt like she surely must be dreaming. This couldn't be happening… her? Hermione Granger? Engaged to Draco Malfoy? She kissed him back greedily, savoring each moment in case it was, indeed, a dream. He pulled away slowly.

"Will you sleep with me tonight?"

Her expression was shocked and he realized he should have chosen his words better.

"Not what I meant…" he said, stuttering over his words. "I just meant… will you sleep… with me… next to me… in my bed… tonight?"

She regarded him cautiously.

"No sex, I promise," he said, kissing her again.

"Then sure, I can do that," she said.

"Hopefully tonight will be the first of many more…" he murmured. She smiled. "Shall we go to bed?" he asked.

"Certainly," she replied. Draco smiled again.

"Dmitry!" he called. The Orhomme appeared in front of them.

"Sir!" Dmitry said. "A most confusing evening, I must admit…" Dmitry gazed at Draco and Hermione's clasped hands.

"Oh?" asked Draco.

"Well, sir, your fiancée has departed most suddenly, and, indeed, has said that she is no longer your fiancée at all, and that I should find you in the east garden with your governess, should I need you… As I did not need you, I waited until you called… and I find that you are indeed in the east gardens with the mademoiselle."

It was, by far, the longest monologue Hermione had ever heard from Dmitry.

"So Michelle is gone, then?" Draco asked.

"Oh, long gone, sir," Dmitry affirmed. "She called for me as she was packing and left not five minutes after."

"Wonderful," Draco said, and he lifted Hermione's left hand – now containing her engagement ring – to his mouth and kissed it.

Dmitry noticed.

"Sir?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, Dmitry?"

"It appears, sir, that you already have another fiancée…" he eyes gleamed like his skin as he gazed at the ring.

"You have inferred correctly, Dmitry," he said, kissing Hermione briefly on the lips.

"Sir!" he cried. "Oh my… Davius!" he called. Immediately the second Orhomme appeared.

"Heavens, what is it?" asked Davius, dusting himself off.

"The master and mademoiselle are engaged to be married!" Dmitry said excitedly. Davius gasped.

"Well _congratulations_ sir and madam!" he said. "She is a _much_ better choice than that blonde idiot…"

Dmitry smacked Davius with his glove.

"Not that I don't _agree_, sir," Dmitry leaned in to explain, "but Davius should not be so rude!"

Draco and Hermione both burst out laughing before they dismissed the two Orhommes with instructions to change the sheets on Draco's bed and walked leisurely up to Draco's room. They each kicked off their shoes when they entered.

Hermione, upon seeing Draco's bed, felt a little uneasy.

"Draco…"

"Hermione, the sheets were changed. There is no more of Michelle in this room anywhere, not even her scent."

"I know, it's just… just last night you were sleeping next to her…"

"Not happily," he added. "Tonight, for the first time in weeks, I will sleep not only soundly, but happily, with you by my side instead of across the house."

This put Hermione more at ease – albeit slightly – when suddenly she realized something strange.

"Draco, all of my things are in this room…"

Draco smiled.

"Dmitry and Davius tend to go overboard with service," he explained. "Would you like help changing?" he asked slyly.

She smiled slightly. "Sure…" she said. Draco, without removing his eyes from hers, waved his wand and her nightdress suddenly appeared in his hand.

And by "hers" she meant definitely one that she owned, but one that she'd not worn in a long, long time…

"How did you find that?" she breathed. It was black and silky, short, with lace trim and a super-low neckline.

He leaned in close to her and placed his mouth right next to her ear. "Magic," he answered. His breath sent a chill down her spine. With the thin straps of her nightgown draped over one of his fingers, he slowly moved his hands around to her back and unzipped the back of the pink sundress she'd worn that day. She felt it come loose and gap around her figure and she watched as he slowly slid the straps off her shoulders, down her arms, until the dress slipped off and pooled in a pile around her feet. She'd worn a white bra and white hipster panties that day… suddenly she felt a little embarrassed.

Draco saw her blushing.

"Is something wrong, Hermione?" he asked, kissing her neck lightly before meeting her eyes.

"I don't… feel very… sexy," she struggled to find the words.

He raised his eyebrows.

"Are you aware it is taking every ounce of my self control not to simply throw you on that bed and ravish you right now?"

She stared.

"Trust me. You're sexy."

Before she could reply, he'd unclipped her bra and it fell to the floor to join her dress. Her breasts were firm and her nipples, despite her plea for no sex, were hard. He couldn't help himself… as he bent down to slide her panties down her thighs, he gave each of them a quick flick with his tongue. She gasped both times. He continued down onto his knees to help her step out of the tiny white cloth before dipping his tongue briefly into her crevice to touch her clit.

She moaned.

"Draco…"

"Nope, no sex. I promised," he said, standing up straight and holding up the nightie that was still hooked on his finger. "Arms up," he said gently, and she did as he asked, holding her arms above her head as he gently slipped the nightgown over her head and let it fall down over her curves.

_Fuck_ she looked _damn_ sexy…

"Your turn…" she murmured, and she took a step closer to him and brought her mouth up to his in a deep kiss. He growled into her mouth as she slowly rubbed her thigh against his very obvious arousal while she unbuttoned his shirt. Soon he'd shrugged it off and she moved down to her knees where she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. They slid to the floor and he easily stepped out of them, only in green silk boxers now.

"This is my sleeping attire," he said, "but you're welcome to continue…"

"No, I think I'm fine…" she said, smirking at him. "No sex, you know."

He smirked back when she used his own promise against him. He then took his wand off the bureau and turned out the lights. Only the moonlight glowing from the French doors lit the room.

"Shall we?" he asked, and he lifted her up to place her gracefully on the bed. Once she was there she snuggled under the covers as Draco walked to the other side and also got into bed. He laid on his back and she crept close to him, laying her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest.

"I love you, Draco…"

"I love you, too, Hermione… I'm sorry that I never told you sooner…"

"It doesn't matter now," she assured him, closing her eyes. "We're together now…"

And with that, she drifted off into sleep.

* * *

She awoke over and over again throughout the night. She was not used to sleeping next to someone and she kept waking up drenched in a cold sweat and a tight bundle of nerves in her stomach. It had been years since she'd ever slept next to someone this way, but she thought it might be a little better given that he was to be her future husband…

Her stomach fluttered at that and she drifted to sleep again.

At six o' clock in the morning she was awoken so suddenly that she thought sure someone must have called her name, that there was an explosion, that there was _some_ kind of danger… But as her brain gained consciousness she realized that it was, in fact, the tight bundle of nerves in her stomach finally showing their displeasure. She jumped out of bed and only barely made it into the bathroom in time to vomit.

She stayed there, kneeling by the toilet for a moment before focusing all her energy – which wasn't a whole lot - on calling her wand to her. She breathed a sigh of relief when it slowly rolled into the bathroom and she grabbed it the moment it was within her arm's reach. After spitting a last bit of last night's dinner and stomach acid out of her mouth, she mumbled the most promising spell she knew for fixing an upset stomach.

It didn't work.

Deciding that she must be a little delusional from tiredness and being sick, she tried again, more carefully this time.

Again, it didn't work.

She growled. That spell was flawless. She'd always performed it properly. She'd read up on it. There was only one case where it wouldn't work on an upset stomach and that was…

…morning sickness.

"Oh, _fuck_," she said out loud, and vomited again at the thought. Shaking, she slowly stood up and bent over the sink, washing her mouth out repeatedly and magicking her hair back in a bun to get it out of the way. After she washed her mouth out, she splashed a good bit of cold water on her face. Now that she'd thrown up twice, the sick feeling was lingering but not nearly as powerful. Once more, she tried her no-fail spell.

And it failed.

She took a deep breath and gritted her teeth to keep herself from panicking.

_Don't worry, Hermione, don't worry, just a little fluke, there's one way to prove for sure…_

She supported her weight against the sink and pointed her wand at her belly, muttering a slightly complicated spell that she'd learned to master as soon as she'd started her period when she was thirteen. If the resulting cloud of dust around her belly turned black, it meant her womb was empty of life. Blue, it signaled she carried a boy. Pink, it signaled she carried…

"A baby girl…" Hermione whispered, horrified, as the spell created a pink dustcloud around her belly. Her knees buckled and she collapsed to the floor, holding her head in her hands.

Pregnant? She'd just gotten engaged and now she was _pregnant_?

Her mind was reeling. It was Draco's. It _had_ to be Draco's, he was the only person she'd had sex with in _years_…

She was caught between the insane desires to either laugh or cry.

A mother… she was going to be a mother… she was going to have a baby girl… with Draco Malfoy… Was she even _ready_ for that? Could she raise a child of her own?

Yes, of course she could, she reasoned… she had said she would marry Draco earlier and that meant also agreeing to raise Scorpius as her son, which she was apparently so adept at…

Perhaps she was still in a half-awake delusion, but she felt she had reason enough to be happy about this…

She had to tell Draco.

She jumped up off the floor, making her head spin and her stomach uneasy for a moment, but she soon recovered and dashed out of the bathroom and to Draco's side of the bed.

"Draco."

No movement.

"Draco!" she said, louder.

"Mmmm…"

"Draco, wake up!"

He groaned again.

"Draco, this is _important_…" she said desperately. He rolled over. Thinking quickly, she grabbed her wand and hit him with what she liked to call the slapping spell. Made the receiver feel like they were being slapped in the face… very useful for a proper woman.

Draco sat up and rubbed his cheek. "What the hell, Hermione?" he asked. Hermione kissed him, then quickly glanced down at her stomach. The pink dust was still there.

"Draco…" she said softly. "Look…"

He looked down at her stomach and his eyebrows went sky high.

"Draco… I'm pregnant…"


	16. Faith

**Chapter 16**

_Faith_

* * *

"You're… pregnant?" Draco repeated dumbly, still staring at the fading pink cloud around her stomach.

"Yes," Hermoine gushed, "with a baby girl…"

Draco was dumbfounded.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Hermione said, smiling.

Draco was trying to make his still sleepy mind comprehend and analyze this. Hermione Granger… his brand new fiancée… who he'd slept with a grand total of once… was pregnant with his child… with his little girl…

"We're going to have a baby…" Draco said quietly, touching Hermione's stomach.

The first rays of the sunrise were just starting to peek over the horizon and slip into the room… a beautiful new day in celebration of a beautiful new life…

"Draco, I hardly even know what to say," Hermione said, beaming. He leaned forward and kissed her.

"You don't have to say anything. The glow in your features says it all." He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and took Hermione tenderly in his arms.

"You don't feel like it's too soon?" she asked quietly.

"Even if it were, it's not like we can put it off and wait now…" he replied. She let her head rest on his chest a moment.

"What are we going to tell Scorpius?" she asked.

Draco pondered this.

"I think he needs to get adjusted to the idea of us being engaged first…"

Hermione nodded. There was a silence.

"I want to get married before the pregnancy becomes obvious," she said suddenly, looking up at Draco.

He was a bit startled, she could tell.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "What if something happens like it did with Isabella?" She saw his eyes darken with lingering sadness but she pressed on. "If I die after having our baby, I want to die as your wife…"

He was silent for a moment before pressing her to him tightly.

"If that's what you want, then that's what we'll do," he said. "But just because we are doing it quickly doesn't mean we have to cut back on anything you might want…"

"I don't need a lot, Draco," she said. "But we can talk about that later…"

"You're right, we can," he replied. "Perhaps later today when it's not first thing in the morning…"

"Right," she affirmed. She sighed. "There's no way I can go back to sleep after this…"

"Me either," he agreed. "Why don't we get dressed and go have some coffee while we wait for Scorpius to get up?"

"Sounds wonderful," she said.

* * *

At 7:45, Hermione went up to Scorpius's room to wake him. It only took a few gentle nudges before he stirred and rolled over to see her.

"G'morning Hermione…" he mumbled.

"Good morning, Scorpius," Hermione said. "I think that you'll find today to be very interesting," she continued.

"Why?" he asked, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes.

"Well, let's just say that there are a few things that are _different_ at the manor…"

As she helped him dress he continued to ask questions and she continued to give vague answers.

"Now Scorpius, I have a secret," she began as she led him out of his room and down the stairs. He walked by her side, clearly frustrated at the lack of information Hermione was providing, but gazing up at her adamantly.

"What is it?" he demanded.

She stopped and knelt down so she was at his eye level, then brought her voice down to a dramatic stage whisper.

"Michelle is _gone_!"

"_Gone?_" he whispered back, his eyes wide.

"Yup, gone!"

"But where is she? Is she coming back?" he asked, still not daring to raise his voice.

"Nope, she's never coming back." Hermione smiled.

"But… I thought she was to marry father?" he asked. Hermione beamed.

"She _was_, Scorpius, but then she and your father decided that it was better if he married someone else…" she began. She paused and he was shaking from the suspense.

"_Who_?" he demanded.

"Well…" she paused again. "Me."

Scorpius gasped and covered his mouth with both of his hands. His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. Clearly, he was totally speechless.

"Don't just look at me like that, give me a hug…" she said, and Scorpius suddenly regained the movement of his limbs and threw his arms around Hermione's neck.

"Happy to hear that?" she asked, letting him go and smiling at him.

"Yes!" he said. "You're so much like my mother already." He paused. "But what do I call you?"

"Whatever you like," Hermione answered.

Scorpius thought for a moment, then crossed his arms decisively.

"I will call you 'Mother,'" he stated. "It's only proper."

Hermione smiled. "And it will be so exciting for me to call you my son."

Scorpius beamed.

"Now how about we go downstairs and get some breakfast and you can tell your father just how excited you are about this?"

"All right!" Scorpius said, and bounded down the stairs ahead of Hermione and raced into the dining room. By the time she managed to catch up, Scorpius was in his father's arms and clinging tightly to his neck.

"So I guess you told him?" Draco asked, smiling.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I did."

"He seems like he's dealing with the news all right."

"Yes, it would seem he's coping," Hermione agreed. "But breakfast will be on the table soon, I think we should sit down and consider eating…"

Draco agreed and put Scorpius down. He scrambled into his chair as Draco and Hermione gingerly sat down and held hands across the table.

Scorpius just grinned at them.

* * *

After lunch, Draco and Hermione were sitting together in the parlor. Scorpius sat in the corner experimenting with his potions kit.

"You do know what has to happen today, right?" Draco asked her, holding her hand tightly.

"Aside from dinner and bedtime, you mean?" Hermione asked playfully. Draco didn't smile and she held her tongue.

"No, Draco, I don't know," she said quietly.

"We have to visit my mother."

There was a silence and Hermione was glad that Scorpius hadn't been paying attention.

"To tell her we are engaged?" Hermione asked finally.

"Yes."

Another silence. Hermione knew that was a meeting that was bound to be disastrous.

"If we catch her at her afternoon tea, she might be slightly more agreeable," he added.

"But Draco, what about Scorpius?" Hermione asked quietly. She didn't want to expose him to the fight that would surely ensue.

"We'll take him with us. Maybe his presence will help my mother stay calm. Though he hates her, she loves Scorpius. I'm not sure why."

"It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that he's a perfect miniature of you, could it?" Hermione smirked.

Draco smiled but didn't reply.

"When does your mother have tea?" Hermione asked. It was 1:30 already.

"Three o'clock," he answered. "We'll head over right around then."

* * *

Hermione was holding the hand of a very irritated Scorpius as they arrived on the lawn of Draco's mother's home. It was a grand tudor style – much smaller than Malfoy Manor, of course, but still larger than the average single family home. The property was surrounded with a wrought iron fence and gated, but they had landed within the confines of the yard. Two grand stone statues – which Hermione realized were snakes – stood on either side of the front door like guards.

Scorpius squirmed. "Why do you _have_ to tell her?" he complained.

"Because she has to attend the wedding, Scorpius," Draco answered.

"Don't invite her!" he said stubbornly.

"Now, that would just be rude, darling," Hermione said as they walked up to the door. "Just understand that this is something your father and I have to do as a necessary step in me becoming your new mother."

Scorpius scowled.

"We need you to be on your very _best_ behavior, all right?" Hermione said as Draco knocked at the door. Scorpius nodded stiffly.

The door opened to reveal a butler. He was dressed in a conservative black suit with a bow-tie.

"Draco! How lovely. Your mother wasn't expecting you, was she?" he inquired.

"No, Cepheus. We're making a surprise visit," Draco explained.

"Ah!" he said, then gazed down at Scorpius. "I see you've brought the youngest Malfoy with you, as well!" he added. He then noticed Hermione. "And a guest…?"

"My governess," he answered quickly, not wanting Cepheus to alert his mother of the reason for his visit. Hermione was glad the ring on her left hand was concealed by the way she was holding Scorpius's hand.

"Ah," said Cepheus again. "Very well, this way. Your mother is in her study having tea."

He showed them to the door, which was open and revealed Narcissa sitting in a wingback chair by the bay window and looking out wistfully. An end table sat beside her, on which resided a silver tea service.

"Call should your mother require me," said Cepheus, and with a bow he walked away.

Hermione couldn't help but to think that Cepheus seemed dreadfully ordinary in comparison to Dmitry and Davius. But then again, Cepheus was an ordinary wizard and not an Orhomme.

Draco stepped in the room first and Hermione and Scorpius followed, standing a little behind him.

"Hello, Mother," Draco said quietly. Narcissa looked up.

"Draco!" she said warmly. "What a lovely surprise…" her voice trailed off as she noticed Hermione and Scorpius behind him.

"I'm sure you remember I told you that I hired Hermione Granger as my governess."

She nodded, her suspicious eyes betraying her warm (although frozen) smile.

"Hermione has proven to be quite excellent in teaching Scorpius," Draco began. "She has made a maternal connection with him in a way that I have never seen with anyone else."

Narcissa waited.

"As time progressed while Hermione has been in my employment, I must confess that I took notice of her in ways beyond a strictly professional manner."

"Draco…" Narcissa began. There was a warning in her voice. Draco plowed on.

"As such, it soon fell to me that I began to have a great affection for Hermione, and so happened to grow to love her."

Narcissa's smile disappeared entirely. Draco was now extremely glad that he'd hidden Michelle from everyone here, including his mother. This would be much harder if Narcissa knew he'd given up a marriage to a pureblood woman in order to marry Hermione.

"Given that, I have come today to announce to you properly that Hermione is to, very shortly, become my wife."

With a clatter and a crash, the teacup and saucer Narcissa had been holding hit the floor and shattered to pieces. Hot tea was flowing across the hardwood floor boards in small rivers.

Draco waved his wand and the mess was immediately set to rights and safely out of his mother's hands on the tea service tray beside her.

"Hermione," Draco said evenly, not breaking his mother's gaze, "do you think you could give my mother and I a moment alone?"

"Certainly," Hermione said quietly, and she led Scorpius quickly out into the hallway.

The door shut loudly behind them.

"What's going to happen?" Scorpius asked, his eyes wide.

"Your father and grandmamma are going to have a talk that could turn nasty," Hermione explained.

"Will she keep you from being my mother?" Scorpius asked, his lower lip trembling. Hermione smiled at him and brought him close to her.

"No, love. Your father wouldn't let that happen."

Hermione listened closely but all she heard was silence. She supposed that when the door closed, a silencing charm had been put on it.

"_I will not have my only son marrying a muggle-born!"_ Narcissa shouted at Draco.

"Why!" Draco asked. "Why do you still hold to Voldemort's policies?"

"This has nothing to do with the Dark Lord," Narcissa sneered. "Her blood is dirty! She is impure! She will taint our bloodline if she carries a child!"

"Too late for that comment!" Draco shouted back, and Narcissa nearly fainted with shock.

"She _already_ carries a Malfoy child!" she cried. "How could you let that _happen_!"

"I love her, Mother, and she will be a better mother to Scorpius and our baby girl than Isabella ever would have been."

"Draco, you are a _Malfoy_," Narcissa said. "You marry for _blood_. For _class_. For _fortune_. _Not_ for love or good parenting qualities!"

"No, mother, that's what _you_ did. That's what Father did. That's what his parents did. But that's _not_ what I'm doing, and I'll be damned if you try to tell me any differently!"

"How _dare_ you—" she started, but Draco cut her off.

"Purebloods are dying out, Mother!" Draco shouted. "There's not many left! If we keep limiting ourselves to only purebloods we're going to start inbreeding! The whole wizarding race will die out! If you want to marry for something besides love, marry for magical _power_. Then the wizarding race will only get stronger!"

"You cannot even begin to tell me that that mudblood woman is even _slightly_ powerful!"

"Stop blinding yourself, mother! She's part of the reason the Dark Lord is dead!" he shouted back. "Hermione is an _extremely_ powerful witch and she will surely help me bring forth very powerful children. If success and power is what you're after for the Malfoy family, then me marrying Hermione is a fantastic way to do it."

Narcissa was silent.

"I did not come here for your blessing, Mother," Draco said. "I came here to inform you. Hermione and I _will_ be married next month, and there is absolutely nothing you can say or do to stop it from happening."

Narcissa took a deep, long, and slightly angry breath before replying.

"You are my only son, Draco. You're all I have left. This is not what I wanted for you."

"What would you have for me, mother? Success? I have it. Riches? I have it. Power? I have it. What I don't have is happiness."

Narcissa was quiet.

"How often were you truly happy while you were with Father?"

Her silence was all Draco needed to hear.

"No matter what you want, I don't want that kind of life for myself. I want to be happy, and Hermione is going to make me – and Scorpius – very happy."

Narcissa sighed.

"Very well, Draco. As you wish. I cannot stop you from making such a horrid mistake. I am getting to be an old woman. However, I will not pretend to be happy about it, I will not pretend to like her, and I certainly will not join you for dinner if she is there."

"All I ask is that you attend the wedding. As my last remaining parenting bloodline member, I need you there."

Narcissa nodded.

"I shall attend your wedding and absolutely no more than that."

"Thank you."

"You are dismissed," Narcissa said, and turned to look out the window again. Draco, not needing any further invitation, turned away from her and walked briskly out of the study door, shutting it behind him.

"How did it go?" Hermione asked quietly.

"About as well as you think it might have," Draco answered. They walked onto the lawn in silence and apparated back to the manor.

"Was she mad, Father?" Scorpius asked as they walked through the front doors.

"Yes, she was quite angry," Draco answered.

"Are you still allowed to marry Hermione?" he asked. Draco smiled.

"Yes, Scorpius. Hermione and I are still getting married."

Scorpius beamed.

"Why don't you go out into the gardens until dinner?" Draco suggested to him. "We'll be along."

"All right," Scorpius said. He didn't need telling twice. He was gone out the back doors in a moment. Draco turned and took Hermione in his arms.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too," she replied. He kissed her tenderly.

"I cannot wait until I can make you Hermione Malfoy."

She smiled. "Has a nice ring to it."

He smiled back. "I thought so, too."

He then kissed her ring and they walked hand in hand out to the back gardens.


	17. Epilogue

**Author's Note**: One last look at the blog for photos from this chapter! Now to business...

Thank you all **SO MUCH** for your continued support! I never would have had the motivation to get through this story without you guys. Your constant reviews were always wonderful and I can't believe that at the finish of this story it has over **40,000 hits**! You guys are so great. :3 I should be starting on another story soon... though it might be Hermione/Harry. I've written so many Dramiones...

Either way, be on the lookout, and T**HANK YOU AGAIN**! :D

(PS - yes, that does mean this is the last chapter, at that Faith has officially come to a close.)

* * *

**Chapter 17**

_Epilogue_

* * *

August 15 dawned warm and humid – Hermione had expected no less from the late summer weather – but she was pleased to see that there were no clouds in the sky and no threat of rain to ruin her outdoor wedding.

Her wedding where she would become Mrs. Hermione Malfoy…

She sighed as she looked over to find herself alone. She and Draco had agreed that they would sleep separately the previous night so that they could go the entire day without ever setting eyes on each other. Dmitry would look after Hermione and help her get ready and Davius would look after Scorpius. Draco, of course, didn't need looking after.

Hermione took a moment while she lay in bed to reflect on the dramatic turns her life had undergone since early April when she had first come to the manor…

* * *

"_Draco, please understand… I had him in bed at 7:30, truly, but when the storm came he was frightened and came to me for comfort…"_

"_You should have sent him straight back to bed."_

* * *

"_Draco?" she said tentatively._

"_Yes?"_

"_You're staring."_

"_Oh! Well, you see, I was trying to figure out the most delicate way to tell you that you had a bit of chocolate on the corner of your mouth…" As he said it, he leaned over toward her and wiped the tiny bit of mousse off with his thumb. "…but I figured it was best if I just didn't say anything and took care of it myself."_

* * *

"_I think you and I both know that this is more than just a job for you…"_

_Hermione was silent, not wanting the conversation to come to this._

"_In fact, I think we know that you're more than just an employee to me…" he added, taking another step closer to her._

_Hermione felt like her heart might beat right out of her chest. Surely he could hear it, feel it, it was practically shaking the room…_

* * *

"_So who were you talking to?" Scorpius asked._

"_I was having an argument with two owls that decided to pay me a visit this morning," Hermione explained._

"_Owls? Father's owls?" Scorpius asked. She chuckled._

"_No, dear. Owls that belong to my friends. They've written me some letters that I have to reply to later today."_

* * *

"_Draco!" the woman cried. Her voice was delicate and smooth. "You did not tell me he spoke français…" Hermione detected a slight French accent and realized that the woman was French. No wonder Draco had wanted her to focus on Scorpius's French lessons…_

"_I wanted it to be a surprise," he smiled. He looked at Hermione. "Hermione, Scorpius, this is ma petite amie, Michelle."_

* * *

"_Good night, Hermoine," he said. Then he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek before walking out of the room._

_She closed her eyes and touched the spot on her cheek where he'd kissed her with two delicate fingers._

"_Good night…" she whispered, as she opened her eyes again._

* * *

"_You are an excellent dancer," Draco said. He stepped closer to her again. Hermione's breath quickened._

"_Thank you… as are you…"_

"_Thank you," he answered. They were silent._

"_I look forward to many more dances with you when you join the party," he said. And then did the unthinkable._

_He leaned forward and planted a soft, tender kiss on her lips. _

* * *

"_It's very obvious, you know," she said._

"_I'm sorry?" Hermione asked, afraid of what Michelle might be referring to._

"_He loves you."_

"_He… who… what?" Hermione asked incredulously._

"_Draco. He loves you."_

"_Michelle… No, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid he simply does not…"_

* * *

"_How do you feel about Malfoy?"_

_She answered with pensive silence._

"_Hermione?"_

"_I… Harry, I just don't know…"_

"_Well. Do you honestly think he does love you?"_

"_No," she answered quickly. _

* * *

"_You've actually returned just in time for the news, both of you," Draco said, walking back up on the patio steps toward Michelle. He took her hand and helped her to her feet._

"_As of this morning, Michelle and I are engaged to be married."_

* * *

"_I was actually planning on a Confundus charm—" but she was cut off by the striking feeling of his lips on hers._

_This was no quick kiss like down on the patio and not a tender kiss like the night by the bookshelf. This was hot, passionate, and needy. Every careful barrier Hermione had been constructing since that afternoon toppled before her. She let him in easily, kissing him back with everything she had, hoping in vain that this was perhaps his way of telling her that Michelle was nothing to him, that he was going to send her packing… She clutched at his shirt while his hands ran through her hair and he pressed himself against her…_

_And then, quite suddenly, he pulled away, leaving them both out of breath._

* * *

"_This was my grandmother's," he began, "but it will have to do until I can buy you your own…" he said. He then opened the box to reveal a stunning one carat marquis cut diamond surrounded by what seemed like dozens of smaller diamonds. It had to be at least half a century old._

"_Hermione Granger, you are everything I could ever want in a wife and so much more, and I can't believe I was too blind to see it before. Will you do me the great honor of making me your husband?" _

* * *

"_Draco…" she said softly. "Look…"_

_He looked down at her stomach and his eyebrows went sky high._

"_Draco… I'm pregnant…"_

* * *

"_Nope, she's never coming back." Hermione smiled._

"_But… I thought she was to marry father?" he asked. Hermione beamed._

"_She was, Scorpius, but then she and your father decided that it was better if he married someone else…" she began. She paused and he was shaking from the suspense._

"_Who?" he demanded._

"_Well…" she paused again. "Me."_

* * *

She smiled to herself and slowly rose out of bed, trying to keep her stomach from getting upset. She dearly hoped that the morning sickness wouldn't take over her today…

It was unbelievable to her that she and Draco had gone through so much in so short a time… and yet it seemed like it had been ages. She almost couldn't remember what life had been like before she'd come to Malfoy Manor. All she knew now was her love for Scorpius, her love for Draco, and her love for their unborn baby girl.

She had hardly made it two steps from her bed when Dmitry appeared by her side. She jumped a little but managed to maintain her composure.

"Good morning, Dmitry," she said, smiling at him. He smiled back.

"Is the _mademoiselle_ all ready to become a _madame_?" he asked slyly.

"Quite ready," Hermione replied, and Dmitry set to work on helping her get ready in any possible way he was needed.

It took the better part of the day to get Hermione entirely ready, but by 4:30 she was holding her breath as Dmitry zipped up her dress for her. It was a stunning light ivory and strapless with a beaded bodice embedded with crystal. The skirt was bustled and also bedecked with beads and crystals. The train, which Dmitry had bustled for her for the moment, was long and full. Hermione's heart was all a flutter as she stepped into her dainty ivory shoes.

"Mademoiselle," said Dmitry, giving her a once over and smiling brightly, "You look simply stunning."

"Thank you, Dmitry," she said. "The ceremony starts at five… I suppose we should start heading down to the back doors…"

"_Oui, oui, mademoiselle,_" Dmitry agreed, and he helped her out of her room and down the grand staircase. The French doors were covered in green fabric so no one could see in or out, and Hermione stood by these nervously.

"Your bouquet, mademoiselle," Dmitry said gently, and handed her a stunning bunch of white roses painted with silver glitter. Hermione smiled and looked up at him.

"You will be just fine," Dmitry said. "Ah! Here is the young master!"

Hermione looked over to see Davius and Scorpius making their way towards them. Scorpius looked absolutely adorable in a black tuxedo and bow tie. In his hands he carried a small pillow, on top of which resided the wedding rings.

"Scorpius!" cried Hermione. "You look _so_ handsome!"

Scorpius smiled.

Suddenly, Hermione heard music coming from the gardens. She looked at Dmitry.

"Tis time, mademoiselle!" he said, and smiled as he opened the door for Scorpius. Scorpius smiled wide as he stepped out and plodded slowly down the aisle, holding up his pillow as if it were the greatest task ever given him in his life. Dmitry closed the door behind him.

Hermione and Draco had opted for a small wedding with no bridal party, so she was to follow Scorpius as soon as the music changed…

Speaking of which, she thought as she heard the tone of the music slow. Her stomach lurched and she couldn't decide if it was morning sickness or nerves as Dmitry and Davius each took hold of one of the French doors and pulled them open slowly, finally revealing the back gardens to Hermione…

…and Hermione to Draco.

Draco felt his breath catch and his heart stop. Every other time he had thought her beautiful paled in comparison to this moment.

Her dress was stunningly gorgeous – so elegant, so formal… her hair was curled elaborately and set perfectly… the jewelry she wore sparkled in the sunlight… and her features were more perfect than he had ever seen them…

She was so beautiful, and she was soon to be his…

Hermione saw the expression on his face as soon as the doors opened and felt her stomach lurch a little more. There was no mistaking that expression. It was clearly the most complimentary look of admiration he had ever given her… She couldn't help giving him one in return. He looked dashingly handsome in a black and white tuxedo… he wore black pants with a white shirt, jacket, and vest. A black tie completed the outfit, along with those same forty galleon shoes. A white rose was pinned to his lapel and his cufflinks, Hermione was sure, were made of platinum and diamond.

It took a gentle nudge from Dmitry to get her to actually start walking down the aisle, taking her last steps as Hermione Granger.

* * *

She screamed.

Long and loud.

"Just a little more, Hermione, you can do it…"

She wanted her wand. Desperately. For the sole purpose of cursing the blasted Healer that was standing between her legs.

How might _he_ feel if _he_ were in an extreme amount of pain, and _she_ told _him_ to push a little harder?

"Hermione…" murmured Draco beside her. "We're almost there, just a few more…"

Draco voice was only slightly more comforting and she gripped his hand tightly as another wave of pain came over her. It had been six hours – six long, God-awful hours – that she'd been in labor, and she'd spent five and a half of them wondering why wizards had not yet come up with ways to evade birthing pains.

"Push, Hermione, push!" cried the Healer desperately. Hermione took a deep breath in and did as she was told, yelling again. Her body was coated in sweat and she was so tired, so achy…

"One more, just one more, come on, Hermione…" said the Healer again. Hermione put every last ounce of remaining energy she had into that last push and, quite suddenly, felt relief.

She gasped for air as the Healer rushed out of the room. In the few moments he was gone, Draco kissed her cheeks, neck, and lips as he stroked her hair.

"You were wonderful, Hermione, you were so strong…"

She panted in reply.

"I love you, Hermione," he whispered, and she finally found the energy to half-heartedly kiss him back.

"I love you, too, Draco…" she said. Her voice was hoarse from all the screaming. Draco looked up suddenly when the door opened and he walked over to meet the Healer, who was holding a pink bundle in his arms.

"A baby girl, Mr. Malfoy," he said to him. "You must be so happy."

Draco carefully took the pink wrapped blanket from the Healer's arms and stared down into the face of his little girl.

She had inherited his blonde hair… it was thin and fine and almost barely noticeable on top of her head…

She then squirmed in his arms a little and blearily opened her eyes just a smidgen… and Draco saw Hermione's eyes staring back at him.

A blonde haired, brown eyed, beautiful baby girl…

"Draco," came Hermione's voice, and he turned around and walked over to her.

"She's beautiful," he murmured, and slowly lowered the bundle into Hermione's waiting arms. She looked down at her and immediately forgot all the pain, all the aches, all the work… all she knew was that the tiny little baby she held in her arms was hers… hers and Draco's… their own precious little girl.

"Born at 10:08 pm on the evening of March the fifteeth, two thousand and six," the Healer was saying. "What shall I write for her name, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy?"

Hermione didn't look away from her daughter's eyes as she answered.

"Cassiopeia Aurora Malfoy."

* * *

"Well?" asked Draco impatiently when Hermione looked up to him from the parchment she held in her hands.

She smiled brilliantly.

"Ravenclaw."

Draco stared a moment before reacting.

"_Ravenclaw_!" he cried. Cassiopeia, who was sitting on his lap, squirmed at the noise. "So loud, Daddy…" she complained.

"Daddy apologizes, dear," Hermione said, for Draco was still fuming. Cassiopeia smiled at Hermione. She was four now and Hermione could hardly believe it. She was growing like a weed and her hair was now long and curling itself into ringlets. It was still that famous light blonde, but it was thickening.

"I can't believe my son was sorted into _Ravenclaw_," Draco muttered.

"Draco, you can't say you weren't expecting it," Hermione reminded him. "He has always shown a high aptitude in learning."

Draco was silent.

"Perhaps this is the beginning of a new tradition for the Malfoy family," Hermione said gently.

"Every Malfoy has always been sorted into Slytherin regardless of skill or intelligence," Draco said. "I don't understand how the Sorting Hat could have read Scorpius differently."

"He's Isabella's son too, remember," said Hermione quietly.

Draco thought for a moment.

"Isabella always was very smart," he conceded. "She was an extremely sharp witch."

"Well then. I suppose the sorting hat saw a little of Isabella in Scorpius and sorted him differently. There's nothing wrong with Ravenclaw, it's a highly respectable house."

Draco nodded, accepting defeat.

"I can't blame Scorpius for breaking family tradition. It's not his fault."

"I miss Scorpius," said Cassiopeia suddenly, snuggling into her father's chest.

"We miss him, too," said Draco. "But he'll be back at Christmas."

Cassiopeia looked up and smiled at him, then at Hermione.

"Christmas needs to come soon," she stated, and Draco and Hermione just smiled.

* * *

"Father!"

Draco walked into the foyer where his son stood, holding a letter.

"Is that what I think it is?" Draco demanded.

"I dunno, sure looks a _lot_ like Cassy's handwriting…" Scorpius teased. He had just turned 18 and graduated from Hogwarts three months previously in June and had arranged an apprenticeship with a renowned potions master. Draco took a step towards him and Scorpius dashed out of the way.

"Mother! Cassy wrote us a letter!" Scorpius called, running up the stairs. Draco ran after him until he caught up to him in his and Hermione's bedroom.

"Let me see it!" Draco said, huffing. He wasn't as fit as he used to be.

"Draco, calm down, it's just a letter," Hermione said, and went to take it from Scorpius. He jerked it away.

"Nope!" he sang. "_I'm_ going to read it."

Draco and Hermione just stared at him – Hermione with amusement, Draco with frustration – as Scorpius slit open the envelope, unfolded the parchment, and began reading:

"_Dear Mum, Dad, and Scorpius,_

_I love Hogwarts! It's the most wonderful place I've ever been! The teachers are all wonderful and the food is just fantastic!_

_I was so scared on my first day! Being sorted was so nerve wracking! The hat was so big it fell over my eyes! It talked to me a very long time but eventually it decided to sort me into Gryffindor…_"

Scorpius was forced to stop reading as Draco lunged forward and snatched the letter out of his hands. He skimmed over the letter until he found the treacherous line.

"_Gryffindor! _A Malfoy child is in _Gryffindor!_" he shouted, exasperated. He stared at Hermione. "This is all your fault," he accused, but Hermione could see a hint of a smile trying to sneak in at the corner of his mouth.

Scorpius, meanwhile, was grinning like an idiot and enjoying his father's misfortune.

"I take full responsibility," Hermione answered, grinning at Draco. He huffed.

"Thank God we didn't have another child or it might have been sorted into Hufflepuff…" he grumbled. Scorpius laughed and Hermione giggled as she walked over to Draco and kissed him.

"Ugh, Merlin, get a room…" Scorpius groaned.

"I believe we're _in_ our room," Hermione said, smirking. "You're the one intruding."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," said Scorpius and hurriedly left the room, closing the door behind him.

Draco stared at Hermione.

"She will be _fine_, Draco," Hermione assured him. "Gryffindor is a wonderful house full of warm and loyal people. She will be well taken care of."

"I suppose so…"

"I _know_ so," she said. "Stop worrying."

And with that, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, just as content right then to be Hermione Malfoy as she had been over twelve years previously when she walked through the back gardens to meet him that August day.


End file.
